Jurassic Park: Chaos Theory
by RichardLevine
Summary: This is my unofficial sequel to the original Jurassic Park Novels as written by Michael Crichton. It's still very much in progress, although I am striving to update it every weekend. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.
1. The Island

The Island

Dieguito leaned against the boat's rail, staring out at the jungle. It had been several hours since _Senor _Dodgeson's jeeps had disappeared into the surrounding trees, with still no sigh of their return. Today's heat was much augmented by the humidity of the jungle, and Dieguito was perspiring heavily. More then anything, he was growing impatient for something, any sign of the men.

He looked over his shoulder to see the other fishermen. All of them local riffraff, men he'd called at the last second from the surrounding docks. But he'd needed a crew badly, especially after Dodgeson had been so generous… He wiped his brow with the back of his hand as he leaned away from the rail. Taking an exaggerated sigh, he shook his head in frustration.

He didn't like being out here, on the five deaths. Dieguito was no fool; he'd heard what the locals had said about those islands for years, that they were a place to be avoided. And yet… he looked out in the jungle, and saw and heard nothing. Diego had said there were only birds here…. but really it was an almost eerie silence around the landing spot.

Something was just off about this whole place, and he didn't want to stay here any longer then he had too. The fishermen were getting nervous too, barely even coming out of the cabin. Superstitious idiots, those _gringos _would never have given Dieguito all the _dinero _if this place had been the least bit dangerous would they?

He smiled a bit, at this momentary thought of the money. The others didn't know, and they would never know. This was one hell of a windfall, and damned if he let a near perfect opportunity like this go to waste. No way in hell was right. If he played this right, his whole life would change in an instant.

It was probably already afternoon, by the way the heat was going. The sun

was already starting to sink in the sky, and he knew soon there would be a cold chill. It was getting dangerously close to the deadline the _Senors _had detailed, and Dieguito didn't have a good explanation for that. He didn't have any idea of what would happen should they hypothetically not show up.

There was a murmur over in the cabin, and he looked up. One of the fishermen had approached him suddenly, a concerned look on his face. "Four O' clock, four o' clock", the man was saying. Ah, so it was quite obvious, and Dieguito should have seen it coming sooner, but the others in the cabin were starting to worry about time too.

Dieguito could sympathize; he didn't want to be on this damned Island when it got dark. Would the silence continue? He had no idea, but didn't really want to stick around to find out. He was concerned though, since if Dodgeson didn't come back, no _grande_ payday for Dieguito.

"Hold up," he muttered. "Just give them another half hour, they'll be here soon I think." He didn't want to let his worry show on his face, though he wondered how obvious it was. "Just wait…" he said trying to think of a stalling tactic. "I have to take a leak out in the bush, give me a half hour okay?"

He took the man's dismissive wave as an okay. "Five o' clock is final." Sure, sure, it's got to be Five O' clock somewhere he could do that.

Dieguito turned around and unlocked the ramp off the boat. As he walked off and into the ground of Isla Sorna for the first time, he looked around for someplace inconspicuous. Okay so maybe he didn't have to take a leak. He just wanted to get one look around before they left. He knew the government didn't like people visiting the islands, so this might be his only chance. Something interesting to tell the grandkids at least.

He took one last look at the boat before ducking into the brush. Immediately it was apparent that this jungle was denser then he'd imagined. He continuously had to swipe away branches from his face and step over roots that threatened to trip him up. Also he was soaking wet from the minute he stepped inside the foliage.

Dieguito hadn't thought to have so much trouble here; after all he'd considered himself a sturdy man all his life. He was thirty-two years old, right in his prime and he'd taken damn good care of himself to remain that way. Still, this climate seemed to be attempting to push him. He already had a layer of stubble across his face, as he hadn't shaved in three days. Truth was he was just too damned tired those days to even care.

More to the point, it was only so far that this damned jungle he could go he realized. As he went on, it seemed to be getting thicker and thicker. Just no end to this stuff. It seemed that the deeper one went in, the harder it got to pass. He wondered vaguely how his cousin Diego was faring in this mess.

That's right… Diego was supposed to be on this island too, but he'd left the other day. Not a single peep from him since. Ungrateful bastard, if he'd just been able to contact him somehow then Dieguito might actually have talked him out of going to in this damned jungle. It was a hellhole of a mess that was what it was.

He swatted away another branch that viscously had slapped his face, and suddenly blinked as he stepped out into the daylight. He had to readjust his eyes to the brightness of it all, and he had to shield them. Grasping blindly he felt his hands grab something soft.

A red rag of, just hanging from the branches of the nearby brush. Dieguito didn't

Question this at all, but took it to wipe his face and hands with. By this point Dieguito was bleeding a bit from the many cuts he had sustained in the underbrush. He thought vaguely that now would probably be as good a time as any to turn back.

He checked his watch, about four thirty. No way in hell did he want to get stuck here. Dieguito absentmindedly held on to the dirty scrap as he took a few more paces in the clearing. And then he looked up.

What he saw took his breath away. There was no other way to describe it. Right there in the middle of the clearing were four trees, almost forming a box formation. In the center of these was a huge dugout in the shape of an oval, with what seemed to be underbrush lining every side.

His interest piqued, Dieguito cautiously walked forward, until he could see inside. Three ovoid white objects…reminding him for the entire world like… He blinked again in surprise. No it could not be… that was impossible!

He quickly looked to his right and left, trying to detect any traces of movement. The silence of the jungle seemed to have been placed as if it were a stifling blanket. Nothing moved in the brush, not even a birdcall…

He looked in his hands, let the clothing scrap fall slightly. Biting his lower lip, he leaned down and wrapped the cloth around one of the eggs. Lifting it, he was surprised to find how heavy it was.

Nothing the locals had said resembled anything like this scene, which greatly disquieted Dieguito. He should have heard of something like this. Softball sized eggs don't just appear in the middle of the jungle on a deserted Island.

Backing slowly away from the nest, Dieguito realized that he was sweating. His watch read twenty minutes, and he didn't know…

He glanced back down at the egg. Damn, he decided. If Dodgeson really wasn't coming back, there was going to be no payment. This might be the next best thing after all. He swallowed hard, knowing he was probably going to have to run.

One to make the boat, two to beat whatever had laid this thing. He dove back into the jungle with an alarming speed, fear giving him legs.

This time the brushes whipped him even harder, but he kept on going. The silence was deafening him now, pressuring him on all sides. Still, he clutched the egg close to him as he ran. He could hear something in the near distance… a break in this deathly silence.

The roar of the boat motor as the captain started the engine. It seemed to pierce the jungle in such a terrible way, being everywhere at once. More sweat broke out on Diego's face, as he increased his speed.

Finally he broke through again, seeing the boat. Lucky…it seemed they were just about pulling the anchor up as he did so. Son of a bitch…talk about timing. He yelled at them to lower the ramp, even as he quickly ran up to it.

He felt so much relief getting up that ramp and falling against the railing. He nearly dropped the egg in his stupor, but he caught himself in time. He glanced at the other fishermen, all staring at him.

One two three… "Hey where did the other guy go" He asked to nobody in particular. They only pointed out into the jungle, saying something about going to look for him in the jungle.

Dammit… Dieguito thought that would delay things even more. "Just wait…" he said, seeing the last of the anchor go up. "Give it another ten minutes for him." He hadn't needed one of those incompetents to try and fetch him, especially when he was

quite capable of taking care of themselves. Five O'clock Dodgeson… he hoped that the man would be here in time.

While the boat idled he went back to the galley, and grabbed his pack. Taking the egg, he unwrapped it from the cloth and put it in. He made sure to grab as many napkins and extra clothing he could find to cushion it as much as possible.

Then he walked back out to the rail, cursing under his breath. Damn them, he was perfectly fine on his own. Ten minutes were up it seemed… he looked out for any sign of Dodgeson…

Then the silence broke once more, sending chills down his spine. The engine had started and the boat was moving now, but that was not the disturbing part…

The forest seemed somehow alive…in a way that it hadn't before. He felt his mouth suddenly go dry as he tried to comprehend this. Every bone in his body was telling him that…

The boat had already reached the bend when he heard it properly. What would stay with him forever, whenever he thought about Isla Sorna.

A roar burst through the jungle something both bloodcurdling and primeval, like it belonged to another age. Dieguito was so shocked that he dropped the rag in surprise.

Maybe just as well, for he walked backwards into the cabin he didn't notice the scrap fluttering in the breeze before being lost in the river.

Diego's torn shirt.


	2. The Village

(Circa 1996)

It was the relentless hammering of nails that had woken the hunter up. He used to think he could have slept through anything life threw at him until fairly recently. Especially not anything in this damn village could have disturbed his rest like this. The man stared at his coffee in a daze, trying to make sense of his tiredness and failing.

It made no damn sense. He'd been up at the crack of dawn on countless hunts against the most deadly game imaginable. He'd stared death in the face and laughed, watching the eyes of the true predators stare right back. Those days he would trek twelve hours in hundred-degree weather with a full pack carrying a shitload of damn tourists through the Savannah. Yet in all his life, nothing had disturbed Robert Muldoon more then the drumming of the nails this morning.

He looked around at the rest of the bar, everybody falling into their morning patterns already. How could they not hear it? Maybe they heard but chose to ignore it was what they did. After all in a village this small, everybody knew his neighbor quite well. Probably even down to their damn family history too. So if they stayed out of arguments, there would be no animosity in the village.

Muldoon considered this as he attempted to force more of the coffee down his throat. Really vile stuff. He knew they made it locally because there was really no way to make the commercial stuff taste this bad. He might as well be drinking canned shit for all the flavor this had. He stood up from his table, and kicked the chair to the side.

As Muldoon walked up to the bar, he dumped the rest of the coffee in the trash can. He slammed the empty mug on the bar, calling the bartender over.

Damn that guy was quick, already knew exactly what he wanted.

"Your usual sir?" The man said, scrambling already to the back of the racks. Muldoon nodded, absentmindedly.

Reaching into his pocket he grabbed a few coins out and threw them on the table. "Good man, Jophrey", he said without thinking. Taking the drink the bartender had set for him, he turned in his barstool to face the crowd.

Not that much life in here this time of morning, but that was pretty much to be expected. "So Jophrey," he said because he was bored. "Why'd he have to start today? I thought that damn asshole wasn't due to start for another week?"

Jophrey just shrugged, quickly shuffling the coins off of the bar and into his pocket. "People speed up I guess, it's normal."

Muldoon took another swig of the whiskey. "The hell it is." It was still pretty bad, but it did take the edge off of the coffee and that was all that mattered. At least here in his middle years, when he was starting to get cranky.

He shook his head, damn fine stuff, even if it did taste like piss. He spoke half to the village, half to himself and a third to the bottle. "I wish I knew how to quit you." He chuckled, setting the Whiskey down on the counter.

"Well, if the damn fool won't listen to no man, maybe he'll listen to me." He said loudly, "Where he at? I want to talk to him!" Muldoon had been in this damn village for six months, but still hadn't gotten the lay of the land.

Ah hell, retirement was a bitch, or so they said anyway. He slowly got down from the barstool, needing to stabilize himself with the edge of the bar.

"Never go near the place myself," Jophrey said in a low voice, almost a whisper. Right by the edge of the jungle, I'm told. People go in there deep enough,

they hear owls hooting in the daytime. It's not natural."

Superstitious asshole, Muldoon should have known really. "There's nothing scary, no boogeyman and I'm going to prove it." He was feeling really better know, since the whiskey was making its way through his system.

"Geddatta my way," he mumbled, as he nearly crashed into the nearest table trying to walk out the door. "Gonna have a talk with him, tell him that in this country…"

He squinted as he suddenly burst out into the daylight. He could hear the hammering louder now; it was coming from the western side of the village. Ah hell, he knew something like this was going to come sooner or later.

It was that much of a walk, and he pinpointed the location pretty easily just following the noises of construction. From the sound of it the Asshole had rounded up at least four more chumps to help him out with his thing. Fine, Muldoon thought, taking another swig of the Alcohol.

There could be ten dozen of them there and that wouldn't affect him that much. With his free hand he tilted his hat downwards, so that it shaded his face. Shit was about to go down, kids leave the things at home.

The workmen were going up and down the hill, like ants from a hive. Muldoon staggered a bit, as he tried to ascend, even though this was the jeep trail. He was sweating a bit, wondering why it was like this. Back in Africa he could have done this with no effort whatsoever, and be ready to run when over this.

He blamed this damn jungle; the humidity was getting to him here, even though he wasn't even in the shade of the trees. Especially his knees, but that shouldn't matter that much because he was almost over the ridge now. How the hell did Jeeps even get up this piece of shit, four wheel drive?

As Muldoon crested the ridge the sound of hammering grew louder until it filled his ears. He dropped the whiskey bottle in disgust, watching only halfheartedly as it rolled down the hill, off the side of the road.

Turning back, he saw what all the fuss was about. "Mother of God," he muttered under his breath, gritting his teeth with his anger. Of course, the asshole had to do it today, of course. Why not tomorrow?

At the very summit of the hill there was a large barn still obviously in the beginning phases of construction. The only way you could tell it was supposed to be a barn though, was because the huge doors were already cut and set to one side. What else could it honestly be?

"All right," Muldoon growled as he walked around the perimeter of the building. "Where is he? I just want to talk with him!" He was more than a bit agitated, though it was hard to tell how much of that was the liquor talking.

"What's all the ruckus now?" That seemed to come from somewhere above him, and as Muldoon looked up, he saw one of the workmen up on the platform. "If you're looking for Dieguito he's in the house."

Muldoon turned around, sure enough there was a medium sized house not five paces away from where he stood. Shit, he thought, the man doesn't even have the brains to oversee his own operation.

Storming angrily over to the house, Muldoon knocked on the door as hard as he could. He wanted to break the damn door down that was how angry he was right now.

"In a second!" He heard a door slam somewhere in there, as if in a hurry. Well as long as the man got his ass into gear, Muldoon would only give him half a piece of his mind.

Door opened, and a tall Hispanic man stared back out at him. Shit, not even like the guys from this village. Looked like he was from the coast or something. Muldoon just had that feeling, maybe from the way he was standing or something.

"Sorry," the man said, "I was just a bit busy." He leaned a bit in the doorway, breathing heavily, as if he was very tired.

Well if that don't make two of us. Muldoon thought to himself, shaking his head. "What the hell is up with your little shop class project?" He just was about ready to vent on this little asshole for making such a big ruckus.

"Whoah woah," Dieguito put up his hands to try to calm him down. "Why don't you just sit down by the side out there and I'll be out in a minute."

Muldoon squinted, seeing the man's hands were bleeding just a bit from the side. Well it was good to see the man was actually getting off his ass and working instead of just leaving all the work to the chumps outside.

"Hell no," Muldoon was absolutely firm now. "I'm not going to take any crap from a guy that can't even do basic yard work." He did step backward a bit, just in case the guy actually wanted to come out and clear things up a bit.

"Oh this…?" The man actually seemed a bit disturbed, as if seeing his bloody hands for the first time. "I was just feeding the birds is all, damn thing wouldn't take the food." He wiped his hands across his shirt, as if he were too distracted to care.

"You know what?" Muldoon muttered to himself. "Can you just can it for today at least?" He was quite tired by now, and he could feel the effects of the liquor starting to wear off.

The hangover would probably be too much for him, even now.

"Just save this shit for tomorrow if you're going to do it at all."

Dieguito shrugged, as if exasperated. "Whatever you say, _Senor_," he didn't sound all that enthusiastic about it either way. "Just call me back in the morning when you're over your hangover."

_Smartass_, Muldoon thought to himself as he walked away. He decided to just come back the next day, give him the same piece of his mind. At least that's what he was thinking just before his foot stepped on something hard while he was heading towards the road.

His first thought was that he'd stepped on the bottle and broken it, but that was impossible of course. Muldoon had seen the damn thing rolling all the way to the bottom of that hill, so there was no way in a million years…

He looked down, blinking again. The shock caused him to lift up the hat brim all the way to the top. Maybe no way in a million years… but maybe in Sixty-five million years.

Robert Muldoon bent down and removed the broken ovoid fragment from the mud. If he hadn't stepped just right there he would've never noticed it too.

He took a deep breath, taking a furtive look back at Dieguito's house. Yes the door was closed all right.

Carefully he put it into his jacket pocket, being careful not to crack it. Amazing what brought back memories, and in a place like this.

Something clicked in his head. The barn, the hands, it made sense now. It really all fit perfectly. But he was the only one who knew…aside from Dieguito.

But why do anything about it now? A slow smile crept over his features as a thought struck him. This could be the cure to his slump, the feeling he couldn't

shake ever since retiring to this dump.

It might take a while for this to pan out, if it did at all. But Muldoon would be ready for it. After all, he was a hunter; the wait was merely one part of it. The best part of all as an experienced guide like him could well attest too.

He wasn't going to bother this guy tomorrow oh no. Just let him think he'd forgotten and that it was all suddenly okay now.

Muldoon turned back to look at the barn before heading down the hill. He knew there was no way in hell that asshole was a farmer, no way in hell. In a way that actually thrilled him, one last squeeze of energy from that liquid courage.

The wait…

It was time to live dangerously.


	3. Berkeley

(Circa 2001)

Dr. Marty Guitierrez cleared his throat as he grasped both edges of the podium. It had been a long time since he'd last been invited to speak before an assembly. No two ways about it, he was definitely more nervous now then he'd been in a while. He could feel the sweat dripping down his brow as he stared out at the crowd.

Every eye in the room seemed to be focused on him, waiting for him to begin the lecture. As they should, tickets to this little guest spot weren't all that cheap, although Marty had fought with the administrators about that. More of this damned 'budget cuts' that every university seemed to be fussing about these days. It didn't make all that much sense really, especially when the school president got paid that high.

But then again… what did a visiting scholar really know about those things? Marty put on a smile for the crowd, as he cleared his throat again. "Thank you all for coming today, I would first like to extend my thanks to the president of UC Berkeley for this wonderful and really unexpected invitation…" He blanked out to most of what he was saying, because it was just rote procedurals.

Marty was pushing forty these days, and had never really expected to be invited as a guest speaker. Hell, they barely appreciated him over there at Yale those days; budget slashing after budget slashing… He rarely even had a chance to complain about it too. Or rather he would, and they would have his paycheck on the table when he went to go talk to them.

"Now what I'd like to talk to you today is a very relevant topic in the news recently. Only recently has it gained much scholarly attention, and I consider that

an unfortunate situation. There is a wealth of material that still lacks serious scientific consideration, and possibly many new discoveries to come. But first… we come to the crux of the matter."

He flipped the button for the PowerPoint slide to begin. Using his laser pointer, he illustrated to the audience two large images of huge boa python. It must have been about seven feet long and it was feasting on the remains of a deer. Above the animal a sign could be read 'Disneyworld five miles.' Marty smiled despite himself at seeing that, a bit blunt perhaps but this was the way he always liked to start off his lectures.

Get them uncomfortable a bit first, but then start thinking about it. That was the only way to gauge people's interest in anything. By getting them to talk and be open about it first. "Invasive species such as this Boa Python lurk on the very doorstep of America, within highly populated areas. Yet for the most part we fail to notice them, or consider them to have a negligible impact at best. However, this mode of thinking may in fact be erroneous, outdated… and maybe dangerous."

He turned away from the slide, to face the crowd again. "When invasive species are introduced into a new environment, it disrupts the balance of the ecosystem. The food chain may be disoriented, or disrupted altogether." He wiped the sweat from his brow and took a small sip of water. "What I postulate is that those invasive species find their own niches in the ecosystem, and that's the secret of their success."

He turned to the slide again, but this time it showed a mass of toads across a lawn. "Australian Cane toads, originally brought in for pest control did a wonderfully excellent job at that. However, they were a bit too successful, and their numbers have skyrocketed. They now have become as much of a pest as the ones they were sent to eradicate."

He let a small smile cross his face as he faced the crowd. "This second

example I believe shows how successful invasive species can be at finding niches in the ecosystem. That brings me to another point in my discussion here. A very important one that I hope you all remember after you leave."

"The ecosystem does not have an unlimited amount of capacity for all these different niches. Each one serves its own purpose in the biology of the biome. The inhabitants of the area specifically evolved to fill these niches, as did other species. What eventually happens here is that there is a co-dependence relationship will eventually arise between various species. Of course a marriage of convenience, but it underscores how interconnected the ecosystem is."

"Disrupt one chain or link in the ecosystem, and you will affect others." He paused again to clear his throat. He hadn't done this much talking in a while. It seemed he was progressing nicely, which was surprising considering that this 'guest lecture' was pretty much ripped from his lectures back at Yale. Well, what the folks don't know won't hurt them.

"Due to these co-dependent relationships, if the flower dies or is displaced, what happens to the bee?" He shook his head as if to underscore his point. "If the niche is being filled by another animal, the best alternative one can hope for is of a slow and gradual transition, over millions of years. Yet, even in this situation there are still co-dependent relationships that cannot survive the pace of events."

He switched the PowerPoint slide, moving on to the next image. "Now see here the effects of this niche filling. Because even in one niche there may be characteristics of that species that other species have specifically adapted to. So if an invasive species takes over that niche, the other species in the region will have to quickly adapt to this. Of course it is quite possible that the new niche will be of a sort that is incompatible with the

surrounding ecosystem. When this occurs, extinction rapidly follows."

Marty only turned halfway to the slide again, as the screen revealed the image. He frowned, that hadn't been the one that he'd put in last week…well he had given the PowerPoint to the tech guys to set up for him before he came there. It was conceivable of course that there had been some changes made but…

Behind him he could hear the audience murmuring a bit. He stole another glance at the slide. The image showed a sandy beach, an all too familiar stretch of beach. Marty frowned again, but it was not the locale that was bothering him. On the southeast corner of the picture right up against the waves…was that not… a bloated and indeterminate carcass?

Marty turned around, noticing the audience was really starting to fidget now. Well at least he wasn't the only person that had been more then a little discomforted by it. But for a different reason altogether. He decided to redirect attention, by continuing the lecture.

"Now it stands that this is the likely result of such rapid niche displacements in the ecosystem. Now the time interval to constitute such a rapid displacement does not have to be of the extremely short scale of merely years. In geologic time this pace can even include intervals of time that have generally been accepted as enough time for small evolutionary changes to occur." He smiled as he saw that the audience was starting to sit up straight, as they anticipated where he might be going.

Meanwhile he discreetly switched the PowerPoint off. He would have a word with whoever messed with it later… "In the fifty thousand years since Homo Sapiens first learned how to master tools he has become the dominant species on the planet. He lives on every continent, in all habitats and ecosystems. He has dominated the planet,

terraformed even the most inhospitable areas to his will. There is no logical reason that Humans live in some of the areas that they do, when clearly the human body is to frail to survive unaided."

"But I will bring up a point about invasive species here. They usually thrive first in the areas that they are most acclimated to, but that is not when the population explosion happens. No, breeding increases as populations are forced to struggle to survive and bring up their numbers due to inclement losses. Thus a new or invasive species will see a surge in population in an unfamiliar environment, because it is struggling to cope."

He let this seeming non-sequitor sink into his audience for a second. "Just think about it, did Humanity experience a population boom in the savannahs of Africa? Of course not, because we weren't being evolutionary challenged enough. It was only ten thousand years ago, when humans started clustering together that populations started to increase."

"It happened so rapidly and radically that we never even really stopped to question what the secret to our success was. Human tool use gave mankind dominance over all other species on earth in that time. The Neolithic revolution changed the face of the planet, as man took even the fate of other animals, and changed their evolutionary paths. For the first time in 15 billion years, an animal had arisen that was capable of doing this."

He grinned again, because he was near the crux of his speech. He always enjoyed it every single time, never got old. "But here's the thing, if a species gets too far out of its habitat, the ecosystem will not just sit back and allow him to dominate. No, there were be an equally fast attempt by another creature to adapt to these sudden changes, to survive."

"It doesn't even have to be a native species that adapts this quickly to an intrusion. It may also be another invasive species as well. When invasive species from different original habitats collide, there may result in a clash for that specific niche. In essence its very success of the invasive species may now threaten its very survival."

He leaned forward to take the microphone out of its holder. "But Humanity has existed for fifty thousand years of tool use. Ten thousand remaking the world in its image. And yet a challenger has yet to appear to confront us. I ask you all the question on everyone's lips." He took a deep breath as he said it.

"Is that challenger already among us? I highly doubt it, considering how vigilant we as a species are in eradicating all threats to our existence. Hell, we rigorously seek out and destroy these strains of bacteria or virus that may pose a threat to our existence."

Marty shook his head as he quickly checked his watch. Almost time to wrap up here, just the main point to go. "I say that man will eventually produce his replacement in due time. We spend all our energies creating the perfect drug, engineering the perfect dog, whose to say we might someday introduce a species even more suited to supplant other species then we are?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's been a pleasure." He waved to the crowd, not even looking back as they broke into scattered applause. Yeah, people tended to do that a lot in his lectures it seemed. But that didn't matter all that much now, because he really needed to have a word with the tech guys right now.

The minute he got backstage, Marty saw the president of UC Berkeley talking with two other men. Both seemed ill suited for an academic setting, and for a fleeting moment, Marty wondered if they might have gotten lost on their way to Silicon Valley.

Before he could say anything about the slide though, the man turned to him.

"Dr. Guitierrez! Just the man I wanted to see right now. Great speech by the way, I'm sure the halls of the staff lounge will be buzzing by tomorrow."

Marty took that to mean _Who the hell invited you?_ Which was what was probably meant by that generic greeting nine times out of ten. He nodded noncommittally. "Glad you liked it", he said. "Care to tell me who these guys are?" He was probably going to be introduced to them anyway, though he could have cared less.

"Howard Rossiter," the tall bearded man next to the president said, reaching to shake his hand. He gestured to the other man, who was of medium build and looked uncomfortable in the suit. "And this is my associate, Ed James."

Marty shook their hands, wondering why the hell those guys were even talking to him. He just wanted to get to the faculty lounge, get a cup of coffee and be prepared for the flight home.

"Actually don't go anywhere," Rossiter laughed. "I had a proposition for you, based on what the president was just telling me." The man turned to the president expectantly. "Something about how you desired to work in Costa Rica again but couldn't get a grant through."

Marty nodded, it had been difficult getting a permit these days. The board would ask him if he already had a backer lined up and when he'd said no he was rejected each time. The process was very strange, as if they were intentionally making it harder.

"Well, I would be very interested in backing you, both me and my associate here. We would be very happy to finance a grant for you Dr. Guitierrez."

Marty took a breath, what was their game? "Sorry but I don't really know who you are, what foundation or institution are you backed by?" Marty had been burned before in the past, so he just wanted to make sure these guys were the real deal.

The other man, Ed James spoke up before his associate could. "We represent the Lewis Dodgeson Memorial trust. This foundation is set up to further the research and study of Saurian reptiles."

Marty paused a second, wondering if that was truly an interesting choice of words. He'd never heard of it but there was always the off chance he'd been out of the loop. "How much would you be willing to fund?" A simple question, mainly to gauge how serious these guys were, if they were playing him he could find out relatively fast.

"As much as you need Dr. Guitierrez. The only stipulation set up in the grant is that you need to leave for the field research within the space of a year."

Marty nodded thoughtfully, that amount of time gave him something to work with. He would probably need about six or seven months just to get everything he needed together and that was if he set up right away.

On the other hand… this opportunity might not ever come again. He looked at the UC president, who only shrugged. "Rossiter…" Marty said, a smile breaking out over his face.

"Have you got yourself a deal."


	4. Palo Alto

The stereo blared out crappy rock and roll, but most of it was drowned out to the sound of the road. The man let the wind whip his hair as he made a turn down the winding street. Map propped up against the dashboard, cold fries on the passenger seat. He shook his head as he checked the mirror again to make sure that no one was about to pass him.

Shawn Baxter ran his hair through his head, as he bit down on his cigarette. He didn't know where he was going, and frankly he didn't care. However, it would've been nice to be given proper directions for once. The odometer had been punched before he'd left, and it was already racking up forty miles.

All damn day, Baxter had been running across town. Just because one man couldn't even get the street address right, funny how the smallest error seemed to add up. At first he thought he'd got the right address, but didn't recognize the sign on the building. 'Biosyn Headquarters' or some shit, he already forgot.

Anyways Baxter had immediately called the phone number Dr. Guitierrez had given him in such a case as this. No answer, why he'd nearly thrown the damn thing out the window when it tried to send him to the answering machine.

He looked again in the mirror, shaking his head at what he saw reflected back. Twenty-five years old, barely out of college and ready to get his first internship. Helped on the grad school applications too, but those doctorate programs were tough as hell to get into.

Baxter bit his cigarette harder, causing the stub to crack off in his fingers. Casually he threw it in the back and grabbed some cold fries. God they sure were

awful when they were cold, almost like the big fast food restaurants designed them that way. Would've ordered a hamburger but he'd been a dollar short at the window. Ah hell, that was the way life was, and you had to roll with the punches.

Dr Guitierrez had told him this would be an easy errand, mainly because he was too busy these days. Man was all worked up about this trip he was going to take, but no one else on the faculty seemed to know about it. Like it was some kind of top-secret shit or something.

Baxter shook his head and sighed as he reached the stoplight. Why hadn't he just gotten an easier internship? He'd thought about working part-time but it seemed no one even wanted to hire a patty flipper anymore unless they had industry experience and a degree. Then what the hell use was…?

He took his cell phone from his pocket intending to call them again. No one was going to waste his time in this city, term was almost over and there was about a million other things he'd rather be doing at the moment. End-of Term Projects, job interviews… the list ran on and on. Well he would get to these things as soon as he was through with this bullshit.

Baxter started to dial the number, but froze. In his anger and impotent frustration he'd forgotten to take the phone off of silent! He saw at least 11 missed calls on the list at least from what he could see… and the most recent call was still going…

"Hello?" He nodded as he received the instructions at the other end of the line. "Yeah, yeah." He started the car again looking at his map. "Sure I can make it."

He slapped the phone down and threw it on the passenger seat.

An hour later he pulled in to the parking lot of Marie Callenders. It seemed Dr. Gutierrez's backers had a change of plans at the last minute. Gave him bad instructions or something. Baxter would fix that sure enough; give them hell for what they were worth.

"I already have a party I'm waiting for", he said to the waitress just as she was about to try to seat him at a table. He followed her as she led him to the other side of the restaurant, where a table was set up against the wall.

The man sitting there didn't look like much of anything to Baxter. Skinny, scrawny and wearing a cheap suit. Didn't offer to shake hands either. Baxter sat down as the waitress asked him what they wanted.

The other man spoke up. "Just a coffee for thanks," He gestured to Baxter, "So what do you think you'll have?"

Baxter shook his head, and watched the girl leave. Then turning to the other man he cleared his throat. He didn't really want to waste his time, just get this over with so he could leave. This place was a dump really, never would have stepped foot in it on his own time.

He put his elbows on the table, tilting his head to the side. "Dr. Guitierrez told me that you guys had some last minute things that you needed to discuss. Unfortunately he couldn't make it so he sent me to pick things up."

The other man chuckled at Baxter's introduction. "Good kid. The name is Ed James. I actually asked him to meet here because the permits for the research expedition are finally cleared. I have them here in my suitcase as well as the specific instructions on how he should fulfill the fine print of the grant."

Baxter shook his head. Of course there was going to be fine print… did Dr. Guitierrez really think that these institutions sponsored free trips to Costa Rica? "Yeah, can we make this quick?" He said trying to speed things up a bit. "I got a date tonight and if you don't mind maybe I can just grab the permits and get out of here…?"

He was interrupted by the arrival of the waitress bringing the coffee. The other man thanked her and took a sip as she walked away. "Ah, this coffee has been awful for the last five years." He said, almost as if he was reminiscing. "Sure you can take them and leave them kid, I just got a question."

Baxter had almost been about to shake the man's hand and ask for the permits, but something stopped him. "What?" He asked, finally. It couldn't be that big of a deal really it was probably some casual comment on what his major was or…

"You're that kid right?" Ed James said as he took another sip of coffee. "I heard Marty invited a grad student to fill in the free assistant slot the fund provided."

"So what if I am?" Baxter felt himself taking his hand and setting it on the table. "If it'll look good on my postdoctoral application, then of course I'm going to take it."

James nodded, and set his coffee aside. "It's hard out there being a student isn't it?" He shook his head sadly. "Student loans, graduate school applications and financial aid of course."

Baxter felt the guy starting to get on his nerves. Just give me the suitcase, he thought. What was this guy some kind of damn psychiatrist?

"So Shawn" James grinned, finally bringing the suitcase out from under the table. "Here's what you wanted right?'

Baxter grabbed for it, but he felt resistance as James suddenly leaned on it. He looked at the other man's eyes but was met with only one reply.

"Open it, its not locked." Baxter was beginning to think Dr. Guitierrez needed to do a good job of screening those people. He stared at the lock and with some initial reluctance opened the latch.

The contents were rather mundane, just a bunch of what seemed like rather mundane papers and the permits right in the corner. He did notice what seemed like a latch on the bottom. He stared at it, swallowing a bit.

"Is everything in order?" James said, rather nonchalantly. "Actually, that's your suitcase I have right there." He lifted another suitcase up from below the table and opening it right next to the first.

Same contents as the first one, except there was a cell phone inside. Baxter picked it up and frowned. It was the exact kind of phone Dr. Guitierrez always used when he was talking with the grant agency over some detail of the expedition.

"Grad school sure is expensive as I'll say again Mr. Baxter." James said, keeping his voice as level as he could. "Open the compartment on your case, see what I mean."

Holding both ends of the suitcase Baxter took the latch and lifted it. The base of the suitcase shifted a bit, and he could see that there was another level inside. Removing the first base, he set it to the side and swallowed again as he looked inside.

He'd never seen that much money in his entire life. He picked up one of the bills and flexed it in his hands, almost as if testing it to see if it was real. It was a full five minutes before he found his voice again.

"The hell is this?" Shawn said, shaking his head. "This much cash, you want something from me." He crossed his arms, determined to have an explanation.

"Well if Dr. Guitierrez had showed up by himself, I'd have just given him the first case." James said, "However, since you came alone, I have a business proposition for you."

Baxter perked up, though he couldn't deny his thoughts were flooded with the money. "You want me to report something on the expedition for you right?" He chuckled. "Should've known, more then just a foundation right? You need an expedition there for some reason you're not telling him."

James lifted his arms and shrugged. "You have it half right kid, half right. See this phone in Marty's case? I need you to switch it with his real one. We managed to clone all the numbers and information off of his old one, not an easy task let me tell you. Re-routes certain sensitive numbers to our lines. We'd appreciate it if you don't say anything about that to him."

Baxter picked up the phone and turned it over. It certainly didn't look any different, though he saw no reason at all why it should. However, it was a tempting offer but something was still gnawing at his sides.

"Nobody offers this amount of money just for a phone exchange." He knew that questioning the offer might be bad but he still had to be completely sure. Nothing came for free in this world, and he knew it. If he had to throw a free tuition away just to clear his mind then he could do that as well. "What's the catch," Baxter said, leaning across the table.

James finally let a real smile cross his face for the first time since Baxter had sat down. "Though you'd say that," he said. He leaned over again and took a small canister out of his own suitcase.

It had the small biohazard label, but Baxter could see trace marks of refrigeration on this. He watched James carefully open it and slide the specimen out on the table.

"Careful boy, it's fragile". James handed it to Baxter and allowed him to inspect it at his leisure.

Baxter turned it around and around, examining it. His master's thesis was going to be on herpetology so he recognized the texture of the skin right away. How mottle it was…how grainy. "Some kind of lizard," he said finally. "But if I didn't know any better I'd say it was a bird."

James looked around even though the Marie Callender's was deserted. He leaned low to the table and whispered in a low voice. "What if I said it was neither a reptile or a bird?" His smirk was maddeningly enigmatic.

Shawn Baxter sighed and handed the specimen back. "Don't play mind games with me, just tell me why this is so damn connected with the trip."

James looked like he wanted to hold back for a second but just decided to say it. "There's been some… reports in the region of anomalous animal activity. Strange carcasses on shore, mysterious animals appearing in mountains…." He shook his head. "However, it's sporadic really, no one ever seems to come up with conclusive proof. When questioned the natives proclaim it to be the work of the Chupacabra or the hupia."

Baxter shook his head again. "So your grant sent Dr. Guitierrez and me halfway across the world to capture Bigfoot?" He had heard of some crazy things in his life but this was starting to become unbelievable. Still the money was the only thing that kept him seated at the moment.

"Thought you might say that," James said. "But on one condition, the money is delivered electronically upon your return to the United States. We also need evidence that Dr. Guitierrez was completely unaware of the specific details of your meeting with me the entire time."

"This is a load of horseshit," Baxter said, standing up from the table. "Thanks but no thanks Mr. James."

"Wait," Ed James had stood up as well. "Say we double your money, same conditions."

Baxter turned around slowly, his heart beating fast. "I might have to reconsider my options then." He sat back down. "So what is it that you really want me to do?"

James sat back down as well. He smiled, that Charming Smile.

"But first it helps if you know the basics. Ever heard of a company called Ingen?"


	5. Carter

Outside, the clouds were gathering, and the breeze was beginning to get stronger. The trees swayed with the wind, and the scent of the sea wafted in from the distant shore. There was a storm coming, and everyone in the village knew it. Whether today, or tomorrow it would come no one particularly cared.

Dr. Roberta Carter sighed as she walked back to her tent. It had been a long day at the makeshift clinic today. Even though the population of the village was small, it seemed every day that there was a new batch of problems that the people here came up with. Like it was some kind of competition or something.

Not just the normal ailments either, especially since this was Costa Rica. All sorts of exotic diseases appeared in these people, nothing like she'd trained for back in Chicago. She shook her head again as she passed her jeep parked in front of the tent. Hell no, it had been a long day and she was just too damned tired to think of anything else right now.

As a young med student just finishing up at County General, she'd had her choice of hospitals she'd wished to match to. However, the day-to day stress of the hospital had never really impressed itself upon her and she had quickly grown discontent and disillusioned. Instead Carter had opted to take a year off to Costa Rica for her first year as a licensed doctor. To say she hadn't been prepared for that was quite the understatement indeed.

But this wasn't Bahia Anasco, and this village was nowhere near the shore. Still being back in the country brought back some memories that she'd rather forget, that had never really left.

Opening the flap to her tent her first thought was maybe she still had a beer or two left in the case. Everything had to be flown in this damn village so it was hard to get a good drink without the exorbitant prices at the bar. Hell, everyone here probably owed that bar man favors at this point. Not Carter though, she'd been a professional long enough to know that owing something to other people was the worst idea possible.

However as she looked inside she swore. There was a man sitting on the chair right beside her cot, his hand wrapped in a tattered shirt. She'd told the locals again and again that she didn't make house calls unless it was serious. Hell, if it was serious there probably wasn't much she could do anyway…

"Listen," she said placing her pack on the cot. "It's getting late and I'm damn pissed so maybe you could get out-" She stopped as the light shone on the man's hand, and she could see it was covered in blood.

He turned to face her and Bobbie Carter instantly recognized him. He was that man that lived on the hill near the barn. The locals generally avoided talking to him, considering him somewhat of an outcast. She'd barely spoken to him in the month or two since she'd arrived here, barely seen his face.

In this light, Carter could tell that the man had once been heavyset, but had lost weight either due to fatigue or exhaustion. He was from a nearby village everybody said, had arrived here not five or six years ago.

She sat down on the cot, gestured for him to do the same. "_Senor_ Torres," she said, for that was his name. Gandoca Torres, the strange man on the hill. "I can't help you unless you sit down."

The man sat down, and extended his arm to her. It was still wrapped up in the cloth, and Carter carefully began to unwind it. She had already turned on her electric lamp so that she could see well in this dim light.

The wound had not been cleaned very well, and it was only the fact that this man had thought to cover it up that it wasn't contaminated more. Still, Bobbie could easily see that the rags of the shirt were darkly stained and not just with blood. It smelled of something fetid, she couldn't quite place it. It smelled familiar, but not quite.

As Bobbie took each strip of cloth off, she looked at the man's face. Still, there was no emotion, even though she knew the wound must be very painful. This much blood… She shook her head, wondering if her field kit would be enough.

Probably not, she thought as the last strip fell to the floor. The light highlighted the full extent of the wound for the first time. There was a large gash across the back of his hand, blood-obscuring most of her view. However, she could see that some bone had been exposed, although thankfully it hadn't pierced it.

She bit her lower lip, knowing that action had to be taken quickly. Signaling to Torres to stay seated, she quickly took out the disinfectants and cloths from her pack. Setting them on the cot, she went to work cleaning up the wound. She was careful to only clean the area around the wound and not risk aggravating the wound itself.

Daubing the area with Gauze, she wondered how the man could stay so still. It was like this didn't even faze him. As the blood was wiped away, Carter frowned. Alongside the current wound she could see many scars on his hand, leading on to his upper arm. Some recent, but others looked as if they had been there a long time.

All of them bore the same signature pattern, of the wound.

As she carefully got the stitches ready, her mind was racing. Maybe it would be a good idea to ask him how he got these scars. But then again, if he barely spoke to the locals what were the chances he would talk to a white woman, a stranger in his country?

In the hospital she'd had her share of difficult patients. The residents just told her to listen to them, see what their problems really were. The hardest ones weren't the ones that would talk the loudest though; they were the ones who wouldn't talk at all.

Slowly she turned to look him in the eye as she threaded the first needle in. She could hear the rain pouring outside and the wind rustling through the trees. She could hear the sound of the approaching helicopter, once again coming in a stormy night. But this time it could wait, the more urgent matter was here and now.

The man did not even flinch as the needle drew in and out of his skin. Dr. Roberta Carter had not seen anything like it. Her need to know got the better of her. "_Los Sa Raptor_?" Didn't know why she'd said it, but it was a long shot. At the very least this didn't look like any tool accident she'd seen.

For the first time the man spoke, and in his eyes Roberta Carter saw exhaustion that was beyond his years. He was gaunt, now that she put her finger on it. "No, _Senora." _Torres shook his head emphatically. "_Los Pajoros."_

Carter was confused, she knew a little bit of Spanish but she didn't really see how that made sense. _"Hupia?" _She asked just taking another shot in the dark, although this was a very long one.

The man's jaw hardened, as if he was suddenly exasperated with her. "The birds," he said, speaking in English for the first time. "I was feeding the birds."

Well if that was the story he wanted to stick too…Roberta Carter took a deep breath and looked back down. The stitching was complete, a rough job but it would do for the moment. Taking a pair of scissors, she cut the loose thread and let go of the hand.

She knew that often patients would deny that anything was wrong with them. They usually had the option of calling in psychiatric consults for those, but this was out in the field. She met someone that didn't want to be helped, there wasn't all that much she could really do.

"All done," she said, reaching for the bandages and some more gauze. "Now I just need too…" She frowned again as she saw the man was gathering his rags again.

Before she could say or do anything he was standing up. "That's fine for right now _Doctor_," the line came harder to her ears then the tapping of the rain outside.

"Wait," she said ineffectually, "the wound might get infected or open up again-"

Torres held up a hand and shook his head. "I think I have it under control, thank you very much." Nodding to her once, he walked out of the tent and vanished into the night.

Carter lifted the flap again, wondering if she should go after him. Normally she would never let a patient walk out like that, but something told her not too. He was probably going back to his barn, or maybe the bar, which was where everybody in this village spent all their time anyway.

As she was wondering what to do, she felt the wind increase along the way. Against the night she could see the helicopter leaving, meaning it had already dropped off its passengers. It rapidly disappeared out of sight over the trees.

A familiar figure was running through the rain towards her, and she recognized it as Robert Muldoon. The 'Other American' in this place as she called him sometimes, he was almost as much of a recluse as Torres was.

However, he'd opened up to her a little during her stay, if only because she was the only American around for fifty miles. Carter didn't know how much of it was because he was just a lonely old man, if you could call fifty years that old. He was mostly full of the same sort of stories that were supposedly used to impress women younger then himself. Tales of living dangerously on the African plains and facing lions with a pocketknife….

But if you ignored that, he was rather harmless. She still didn't know why he felt he needed a fence around his house in an isolated village like this… Her thoughts were distracted by the realization of what he was saying.

Muldoon had reached the tent and she realized that he was just barely catching his breath. Even though the landing site had just been out across the way, it hadn't actually been that far. She waited a minute for him to regain his composure so he could tell her the news.

"People," Muldoon said, shaking his head and breathing heavily. "Research group. An older guy and a kid- forgot the kid's name." He waved his hand dismissively. "Anyway they just arrived. Americans by the look of them. Thought maybe we should go to meet them together."

Bobbie slightly rolled her eyes at that last statement but she did admit her curiosity was piqued. "Okay, just a second." She ducked back inside and got her jacket, the one with the hood. Hurriedly putting it on, she went back out. "I'm ready," she said, walking down the way.

She could see the landing site now, two figures walking towards here. They were carrying backpacks and she could see that yes one was definitely older then the other.

In the clearing behind them there were several larger parcels, presumably their lab equipment. They would probably go back for them later after they found a spot. Carter shook her head; she didn't envy anyone trying to set up camp in this shit.

Their paths met and the two parties each slowed to a stop. Roberta Carter removed her hood, feeling the rain pouring down her head but she didn't care. What mattered was seeing the man.

"Dr. Roberta Carter," she said, extending her hand. "I'm a medical doctor, here for Doctors Without borders." She took a look at the man; he was closer to her age, maybe in mid-thirties. Hispanic with a trace of stubble about him.

Thunder boomed in the distance, as she froze in mid-sentence. The man wasn't looking at her though, but staring straight at Muldoon. The glint of recognition in his face.

The silence that followed was pronounced, broken only by the sound of the pouring rain. Bobbie's gaze shifted between the newcomers and Muldoon, unsure of what to say or do.

Muldoon broke the silence, reaching forward to clasp the other man's hand.

Shaking his hand vigorously, he smiled, pearly whites glowing against the dark.

"Marty Guitierrez you son-of-a-bitch." The words came terse and measured. "What the hell are you doing here?"


	6. The Bar

Marty Guitierrez allowed himself to relax a bit as he put his beer down. Random chances dropped from the sky as often as summer rain, and that was what all this would boil down to. Random chance. He had to stop reading too much into everything, or he would never get anything done at all. He sighed and shook his head wondering what the probabilities for it.

One in a million, one in a billion? No… it was random after all. A man he'd met long ago would've called it chaos in action, but Marty had never really bought into all that. Surely fate wouldn't twist itself so cruelly, or so strangely? He had no clue, but set his drink away from him.

It had been two days since the arrival in the village, and they were still setting everything up. He'd told the kid to just dump everything in the clearing behind the doctor's tent, which was where they would set up. Half of this shit was learning how to work in the field yourself, as Baxter would no doubt learn in time. Guitierrez just hoped the kid wasn't wasting time and was actually setting up the instruments. This was serious business, and a very serious trip.

Marty looked out to the rest of the bar, seeing the people file in. It was his first time in here, and word seemed to have spread fast throughout the village. Hell, for these past two days he could barely get anything done with setting up camp because everyone came to see the new Americans. Now that he was here, Marty knew his little bit of peace and quiet was likely gone.

Turning to the bartender, he remarked "Whats the story on the other americans?" He knew he had to tread cautiously here, because of these people. It hadn't been easy; he'd been caught badly off guard. Just so damn unexpected.

He noticed a gaunt man sitting next to him on the bar table, hand wrapped in bandages. Guitierrez gave him a look, and the man turned away. Holding his drink closer to himself.

Guitierrez was about to say something when he noticed who'd just arrived in the bar. Frowning, he got up, and was almost at the door when the man moved to block him.

"What's the matter?" Muldoon said, smiling almost paternally. "You seem tense, on edge really."

Guitierrez's mind raced, trying to think of something. Clearly he should've never come to the bar in the first place. Too damn public.

"Are you drunk?" He hissed under his breath. "I'm not supposed to even know you." He tried to move past again but was blocked.

Muldoon placed his hand almost affectionately on Guitierrez's shoulder. "I'm shocked and hurt, I really am." He sighed as if he'd come a far distance. "To see a man again for the longest time, and he just brushes me off."

Guitierrez thought to himself. He's definitely been drinking. He could smell it on the other man's breath. Must have a stockpile of the harder stuff that the bar didn't even carry. He bit his tongue, because he knew he would betray himself if he said what he really wanted to say.

"That was a long time ago, " he said. Turning around he headed back to the direction of the bartender. Clearly the man wasn't going to allow him to leave so he might as well stay in here. Didn't mean he had to talk to him.

Sitting back down he noticed the gaunt man got up. Said something to the barman about having to go feed the birds. Guitierrez shrugged, as he picked his beer back up. Turning to the barman he asked if there was a back exit.

The barman started to say something but Marty motioned for him to be quiet. Muldoon was still watching him, or was he? He held his drink in midair sort of uncertain, until he realized that Muldoon's eyes followed the gaunt man.

He allowed himself to breath a sigh of relief as the two left, Muldoon waiting a couple of minutes to follow the other.

Or at least he was breathing well until the woman came in. Dr. Carter, he faintly remembered that name. She didn't seem to ring any bells in his memory, though something was telling him that it probably should. He had no idea what that feeling was like some sense telling him to wait.

She entered the bar, and walked right up to the stools where he was at. Ordered a beer, then only pretended to notice him then. Marty scoffed a bit inside, the commonest tactic ever. But it worked.

"So sort of research are you planning on conducting here, Dr. Guitierrez?" She asked as she took a drink. For some reason Marty felt himself not wanting to drink any more and put his beer to the side again.

It wasn't that he was bad with women, hell to the no. It was just that he didn't usually like to have distractions in his work. With the only other American for miles maybe being that old fart Muldoon… he could sort of understand.

She was about thirty-two, maybe thirty-four by his guess. Her blond hair was cropped short just at the shoulder, and her bangs wisped over the edge of her face almost to her mouth. She kept pushing her glasses up every time she took a drink.

It looked liked she'd been rummaging though her baggage to try to find a halfway decent outfit for this meeting. Same way it was with all women. Planned up to the hilt. Marty decided that he would just play it casual, cool and professional. Did that explain why he was fidgeting in his seat? Quit it, he mentally told himself.

"I'm actually here on a grant," He said a bit more quickly then he'd thought to. "I'm on sabbatical at Yale right now, doing research for a scholarly paper."

There was an awkward pause as he realized he still hadn't answered her question. She nodded, sympathetically, as if she understood. "Doctors Without Borders just showed up at County General one day out of the blue. Signed up without really thinking about it." She gave him a friendly smile as she moved her bangs bang to the side over her ear. "I was actually here once, not to far from here actually."

"You don't say…" Guitierrez felt like he wanted to leave, but there was something keeping him in his seat. "Actually I'm here to document certain reptiles indigenous to the region. Basilisk lizards and iguanas. I'm going to be studying their habits and role in the ecosystem."

"That's cool," she said. She pushed her glasses in to keep them from slipping off the bridge of her nose. "Say how about we drink to that?" She took a few crumpled dollars out of her pocket. Seemed like they've been creased in preparation for this day. Dropping them on the bar she gestured to the barman. "Get him whatever he wants."

Guitierrez smiled at her, and then pretended to scan the racks. In his head he was wondering where the exit was. Maybe he could just feel the sound of his own heart beating. Maybe he'd just drunk too much. Something told him maybe it was all of these things together.

Absentmindedly, he picked out one, and it was only when the man put it in front of him that he discovered he'd taken the hard scotch.

"You like your drinks stiff, don't you Dr. Guitierrez," Roberta laughed in an off hand sort of way. "Just to let you know, if you ever need anything during your stay." She sort of leaned over grasping her drink while smiling at him. "How long did you say you were going to be here?"

Marty took a drink, then put one hand to his head like he had enough. "Just about a couple months I think," Really that was the truth and all that the grant had covered, even with minimal equipment on his part. Nodding to her, he got up trying to smile but not really succeeding.

"Well I got to go," he said, slowly backing away still clutching the scotch. He noticed her face fell just a bit because they both understood the reason why. Out the corner of his eye, Marty's heart skipped a beat. He saw a backdoor, just the one he'd been looking for.

"Well…" Roberta sighed as she lifted her drink one last time. "Well, I don't know… maybe we can do this again some other time?"

"Wait…" he said, trying to just let her know it wasn't like that. He stopped himself, knowing that he probably already said too much.

"It's all right," she said. _"I understand."_

Marty grunted noncommittally, and hurriedly pushed the door open. Feeling the cold night air upon his face he leaned against the outside wall for what seemed like the longest time. He took a few deep breaths, feeling like the worst man alive.

He took a few more drinks as he walked along the outside wall, shaking his head. The drink was getting to him a bit faster then he'd thought it would. At the least Marty wouldn't sleep well that night or at all. Seems like the five minutes he'd snuck away from helping the kid set up had turned into an hour.

Calamity of his head, he felt cranky like ten stiffs. He felt vaguely bad about leaving her back in the bar. He knew that if he went in to apologize she would pretend not to care, maybe give him the cold shoulder.

Ah hell, he'd just let his nerve take him again. Maybe she'd just thought to introduce herself to the new guy, and he'd read it the wrong way. Maybe so, maybe so. But he doubted he'd get a second chance.

His nose wrinkled a bit as he noticed the smell all of a sudden. Right at the back of this bar it seemed they dumped all their garbage out, huge pile right there. Only way no one noticed it seemed was because there was a large grove of trees just beyond.

He started to walk around the trash heap but something caught his eye. He blinked, looking suspiciously at the bottle hoping it was the cause for what he was seeing. Marty rubbed his eyes again. Just to be sure. It was definitely not the damned bottle.

He threw it to the floor as he took a cautious step closer. In the dim light from the bar he could barely make out the form crouching by the edge of the trash heap. It was about the height of his knee, and he could see its mottled green skin from here.

It was about four feet long, and two feet high, and even just guessing from here Marty could tell it wasn't fully-grown yet.

Somewhere in the distance he could hear an owl hooting but that was in the back of his mind right now. Standing in front of him was something the like of which he'd only ever seen dead. He remembered long ago two separate times on two separate beaches… once alone and one with that other fellow…

The light illuminated the animal, and he could see it clearly now. There was no mistaking it, even as it ignored him. Still eating off the trash heap, probably never ventured out of the trees before.

It was a dinosaur, a goddamned dinosaur. Marty had been hoping that the rumours of survival in the mountains had been only that, but it didn't seem to be the case. It didn't seem to be the same kind as the one on the beach but he couldn't be sure.

Leaning against the outer wall, he held his breath as not to give his position away. He bumped into a shovel leaning against the side, and barely managed to catch it before it fell.

The animal turned to face him, standing up for the first time. _Bipedal, _he said to himself, noticing that its legs looked muscular. Or at least developing anyway.

Marty hadn't taken any paleontology classes, not even as electives in his senior year. But he had done some research of his own after his visit to Costa Rica ten years ago…

It seemed like a dream, the animal didn't even notice him as he approached silently. Marty wasn't even aware himself that he was holding the shovel until it was raised over his head.

By then it was too late to do anything about that as it came down. The animal was caught by surprise and stunned. Marty swung again and again.

Panting heavily, he dropped the shovel on the ground, against the prone form of the animal. It's neck had been broken by the severity of the blows, and its eyes were glassing over.

He picked it up, and it was not heavy. Cradling it in his arms, he tried to figure out what to do. Obviously he had to hide it somewhere. This was beyond the scope of his trip.

All he'd wanted was to pass this trip without incident. Looking down at the dying animal, Marty hoped that the animal was alone or at least not recurring in this area.

Hell if they were the villagers would've spotted them already he told himself. This was another one of those one in a million chances. Something panged at him again… then what had Dr. Carter been? Shut up, he told himself again, what's past is past.

He thought about hiding it in his tent, but that kid could scarcely be trusted to keep a secret like this. Last thing he wanted was the Costa Rican Government here, interfering. No Marty could take care of this very well on his own.

He set it down in the shade of the trees, watching its chest silently heave up and down. Slowly and carefully, he covered it with trash until it looked like a natural extension of the pile. That should do for now.

Marty set the shovel aside and was about to go back in the bar when he felt a shiver down his spine. The owl hooted again, this time closer to him.

And somewhere in the distance he heard a scream.


	7. The Barn

The cool night breeze felt refreshing against his face as the man walked up the hill. The day had been as long as any other he could remember, and just as tiring in his estimate. His hand throbbed with pain, but he closed his eyes, willing himself to let go if it. Gandoca Torres had dealt with worse in his time and this new inconvenience would go the way of all flesh in due time.

He closed his eyes as he crested the hill and came within sight of his house. He went in the door, and just stood there for a moment. Leaning against his dresser he grabbed his journal out and opened it to the latest entry.

He scrawled something it, remembering what he'd seen when he was in town last week. He could hear the cries of the birds outside, the fowl cackling and cawing in the night. They would never shut up it seemed, never.

Sleep was elusive to him, and rest was something of a foreign stranger to him. It was something from a distant land. He wondered how people went about their daily routines. Normal people that was.

His eyes were deeply bloodshot, and his brow was furrowed. He felt so tired as he slammed the journal shut. He felt like maybe he needed a drink, but maybe later. A nightcap before bed might be the perfect thing.

He turned to the kitchen cabinet, looking to see if there was anything for later. There was that bottle of bootleg Mexican beer that had cost him a bit more then he had been figuring on… He took that out and placed it on the counter.

Torres stalked through the back door to find himself right next to the chicken coop. The birds moved away from the feed tray as he approached. They seemed to part like the red sea at the sound of his footsteps.

He bent down and grabbed two chickens by the throat. In their frenzy they pecked at his hands and wrists. Torres grunted and stepped back over the fence.

Walking along, he tightened his grip on the chickens. Pausing he leaned against the side of the house to wring the necks of the chickens. It took barely a moment before they stopped struggling and went limp.

He continued walking at a brisk pace, towards the barn. Reaching the ladder, he tucked the fowl under his arm and began to climb.

He was getting a bit old to be climbing those things and he could feel it in his bones. However it was the only way to get in, to do his daily duty. He just took a breath and shook his head.

As he reached the top, he threw the fowl onto the loft. Pulling himself up, he just let himself sit down for a second to catch his breath. Maybe he could find someone else to do this… but he didn't really know if anyone else on Earth could.

It had been a rough six years or so. More then he had ever expected. If he had known then what he knew now he would never have attempted it. But now he guessed this was his new duty. The obligation he'd held in his hands was beyond anything in the world.

It was beyond an obligation at this point. Something no one could even know or understand. Or maybe even begin to. And that was all right with him, because they didn't have to. And he didn't particularly care.

He picked up the fillet knife he always kept near the stairs. He took the nearest chicken and began gutting it over a bucket that had been placed directly near the knife. He watched, almost detached as the blood and guts poured into the bucket.

In the barn the only source of light was the hatch that led to the stairs outside. He could see the stars sparkling, and the moon was very bright tonight as well. It made him feel slightly better, if only for a very brief and interminable moment.

Then he looked back out into the darkness, out beyond the loft. Through the dim light, he knew just three feet beyond where he lay was a wooden ladder leading down from the edge of the loft. It was about an eleven to twelve feet separating the loft from the floor of the bar.

He repeated the process with the other chicken and saw that both of the buckets were now saturated with blood. Feeling along the edges, he found the cigarette lighter in his pants and lit it. He walked over to the edge and the corpses of the two chickens over, hearing them crash onto the floor.

Using his lighter as a guide, Torres carefully walked right over to where the bale of hay was. He took the pail, and gingerly dipped it over, grasping it tightly. He shook it just enough so that all the blood and guts washed over the hay and drenched it a good amount. God, it smelled terrible, but then again it always did.

Sighing, he wiped his brow with his forehead as he prepared to set the pail down. He listened for a while but could detect nothing noticeable. That was okay, some nights it was quiet here, and when he would come again in the morning there would be nothing left, not even bones.

He started to get up, but he heard a noise. But it wasn't coming from down on the barn floor. Torres realized with a tinge of fear that it was coming from outside. He walked over to where the hatch was, seeing the ladder shake.

Someone was coming up…he drew in a breath with fear and anticipation. But before he could do anything, a shape blocked out the dark night. Torres took a step back and raised his lighter to identify him.

It was the American, raising himself up to the loft from outside. He stood tall, his hat almost brushing the roof. He took a step forward, his face illuminated against the flame. His face half in shadow, Torres could see with a shiver that the other man was smiling.

"_Senor _Muldoon…" Torres broke off feeling his voice choke. "What are you doing here?" He felt naked, there was blood all over his hands and stained all over his pants. He felt he knew what Muldoon was doing here but…

The other man lifted his hand, and the flash of metal caught off of the flame. "I came here to fix an error that's been in the making a long time." His smile was almost a leer in against the shadow. "I let you have your time, to play with your pet."

Torres felt the fear rise in his belly as the other man spoke. No…it was not possible, it couldn't be possible. He shook his head, his heart beating a million miles an hour. "I won't let you." He said, breathing heavily. He took a step towards the other man, his eyes focused on the gun.

"Feeling lucky?" Muldoon laughed derisively, walking right past him. "This here is hollow point. Blow right through whatever you got." He peered down into the blackness, and Torres couldn't imagine what he was expecting to see.

"Listen," He said at last. "Maybe you've made some sort of mistake…" However he didn't have time to finish that though because Muldoon whirled around in a split second.

"A mistake?" The other man shook his head, his eyes dancing. " No. Every part of the hunt must be meticulously planned. No mistakes can be made or will be permitted." The man held the gun up, demonstrating to Torres. "Modified for maximum penetration. One shot to the skull should be all I need."

By this time, Torres had let his pail fall from his grasp. It resounded with a clang and rolled on the floor. "You don't have to do this…" He said to Muldoon. "Just leave me be."

Muldoon just laughed in his face. "Of course I have to do this!" He grabbed Torres's hands all of a sudden and held them up to the light. "Feeding the birds my ass. Not a scratch on you?" He let go with a derisive snort. "So that's why I must do this tonight…" He let the hammer back on his gun. "It's for the good of everyone."

Well, it seemed the time for talk was over. Taking a deep breath, Torres lunged for the gun. He grabbed hold of Muldoon's arm and attempted to wrest it from his grip. In the process, the lighter fell from his hands and faded out.

He was struggling with the other man in the pitch darkness, and he couldn't see what he was doing. He was putting forth his strongest effort, and straining all of his muscles, but to seemingly no avail. It was not even a question of strength here…

He twisted and turned, trying to wrench the gun free, but felt himself being overmatched. He felt like maybe he should let go, and did so. Unfortunately, just as the older man had decided to violently jerk him to the side.

Gandoca Torres fell eleven feet straight down into the hay pile. He groaned as he felt his back tack the impact of the fall. It had been lucky, having his to cushion the impact.

Looking up, he could see the other man staring down at him, lighter in hand. It illuminated the whole floor, and he could see the ladder as well. Torres started to get up, when he suddenly stopped.

By the dim light, he could see clearly that he was covered in blood head to toe, because this was exactly where he had so carelessly dumped the bucket out to. He cursed his carelessness, thinking how much of a pain in the ass…

He was about to call out to the man above, when his words died on his lips. The left wall of the barn seemed to flicker and fade in the light, and he squinted as he realized what he was seeing.

The light was poor, but he could easily see the vague outline of the animal as it approached. It was about nine feet tall, give or take. A master of camouflage, one would never know it was there unless you looked for it. Even then…

The two bony horns atop the head usually gave it away, or so he had concluded in the many times he'd sat and watched high above in the lift. They had been the reason for the nickname he'd given it in the first place, their resemblance to that master of cunning himself…

"Los Cuernos" he muttered to himself, so softly he could barely hear. "Los Cuernos que terroice…" He thought to himself as he felt the oh so soft footprints approaching.

He felt the animal's muzzle against his side, feeling familiar though he hadn't physically touched it in the past three years. He'd raised it from an egg…. Tentatively, he reached out and touched it. The skin felt scaly and pebbly to his touch.

Looking up, he could see Muldoon staring in a mix of horror and fascination. Torres knew the animal's full outline would be visible from up there, where the other man could see it in its full grandeur.

He bet there was not another animal like it in the world. As the animal bent down, he realized that it was sniffing him. He took a deep breath as he realized that he was completely covered in blood.

Well, he should have seen something like this coming from a long time ago really. As he lowered his hand, he suddenly felt something cold and clammy. It was like….

Torres looked own in the dim light, too see what the matter was. Touching his chest, he felt extremely lightheaded. Maybe it was the fall. Or maybe it was the fact that his liver was slowly dripping down the hay stack.

In the light, he could see what the animal held in its maw… his own flesh. The bite had been so quick; he barely had time to register it.

Looking up, he could see the lighter flicker and flare out. By its dying light, the shape silhouette against the night seemed to be darker then ever.

For one brief, fatal instant, Gandoca Torres saw the animal in full profile. One never got to fully appreciate it… It truly was a majestic creature.

The Carnotaur lowered its head; slavering jaws open wide and Torres opened his mouth to scream.


	8. Event Horizon

The scream seemed to permeate the night air, chilling him to his very bones. Marty Guitierrez stepped away from the door, feeling his fingers trailing along the outside edge. He squinted in the darkness, trying to make out where the sound was coming from. However, there was no follow-up, just the cool wind of the night blowing against his face.

He wondered if he should go back in the bar, maybe have a drink. He was imagining things wasn't he? The only thing that stopped him was maybe Carter would be in there…

Instead, he walked slowly around the corner of the building, careful to step around the pile of leaves. Through the dim light of the bar, he could see the patrons leaving for the night, staggering on listlessly to their homes.

He thought maybe he should get around to checking the kid's progress on the station. Damn kid better not be slacking off, or Guitierrez was going to give him hell. Might give him hell anyway because of the crappy mood he was in.

He had almost crossed the way when he saw a man running in the darkness. Muldoon, and it looked like he wasn't going to stop. Marty tried calling out but the man just ignored him, ran right past without so much as a glance. Eyes

Marty shook his head, figuring he was probably drunk. Man would wake up in the morning, worst hangover of his life. He reached the tent; saw that at least some stuff had been set up in his absence.

Good, maybe he wouldn't dock his grade when it came time to assess the quality of the help. He went into the tent and grabbed a flashlight from a nearby chair. Flicking it on, he looked around to see what had been done.

Kid was fast asleep, in one of the hammocks they had already set up. Marty shook his head, and went over to his own cot. Setting his pack in, he fished his cell phone out, just needed to check on something.

He just had a tick about it, more nervous then anything really. Had to call the university every week of the expedition, just to check in. Joked that the insurance people made him do it. But it was just him.

With a look back at the kid, Marty stepped outside to make the call. He looked about at random rather bored and disinterested in everything around him. The number was already dialed and the phone was ringing, and he was just tapping his feet waiting for the line to connect.

Until he stopped, because his flashlight had picked up on something… he crouched down to make it out more. There… there it was. Muldoon's shoe print, but what was that in the heel…

The flashlight illuminated a speck of red, and Marty's fingers touched the dirt cautiously. It was still warm and wet, though he had no idea whether it was Human or not. Lifting the light up further, he could see the footprints trailing off into the distance, up a hill.

Taking a few tentative steps forward, Guitierrez could see each step had a bit of the same red drops in it. He shook his head, wondering what exactly he'd got into now. This wasn't exactly his concern, the last thing he wanted right now but…

Even as he heard the tinny voice on the other end of the phone, Marty slammed it shut. He stalked back to the tent, swearing under his breath. Stuffing the phone in his pants pocket, he gruffly awoke the kid.

"Wha?" Shawn muttered in the darkness, clearly at a loss to the urgency of anything in particular. "Do you have _any_ idea of what time it is old man?"

Marty didn't even care, just grabbed his pack. He knew time might be running short, and he didn't want to have to go find Dr. Carter. Hell, even in a life or death situation, he didn't want to have to explain himself running into her tent at Eleven at night.

No, whatever he was going to have to do tonight was going to be just him, hundreds of miles away from anything. He didn't think that Muldoon had it in him to harm someone… but a drunk man was certainly unpredictable.

He didn't look back, but he could hear the kid stumbling out of the ten after him. Marty shone the flashlight on the ground, following the steps back in reverse at a brisk pace. He could feel the sweat beading off of his forehead, and he shook his head in anxiety.

The prints came down a hill, as Marty looked up. He remembered vaguely that there was some sort of recluse that lived here, or at least the barman had told him before. Was that who the blood belonged too?

Suddenly that scene in the bar seemed to take on a new meaning. What reason had Muldoon really followed the other man out? Marty wasn't going to ask him personally that was for sure. Could wait until morning when he had the rest of the village behind him.

As they climbed the hill, the first thing he saw was a large and imposing barn. Silhouetted against the black of night, it seemed to fill his whole world. The breeze at his back seemed to increase, and he could see the trees swaying with the sudden gust.

To his left he saw dimly what must have been the other man's house, but that did not interest him at the moment. The prints were coming from one place, he could see as he drew nearer. Two sets of prints going towards the barn, one going back.

Marty's felt his mouth crease into a hard line, as he continued walking. Looking back briefly, he could see the kid staring at the barn. Couldn't blame him, really, he was unnerved by the presence of the large structure.

He almost missed it in the dark, because the footprints were becoming harder to see in this dirt. He held his breath, as the flashlight swung back, to the side of the barn.

He could barely see it; it was well hidden against a bale of hay. There was a rickety ladder, which seemed to go up. Maybe to a loft, Marty wasn't sure. He turned to Baxter, handing him the backpack.

"Stay right here," he said wondering just how his voice could be so calm. "If you hear me call for help, don't go in. Just run into the village. Find Dr. Carter, and tell her to get some of the villagers here."

Baxter took the pack, putting it on his back. He looked doubtfully up at the loft, and shook his head. "It's crazy, going up there by yourself." The kid paused, and took a breath. "At least can you wait until I can get someone from the village down here?"

Something inside Marty told him not to let the kid do that. There must be a reason why this guy was a recluse in the first place. "Just stay right here," he said, "see anything, hear anything, go knock on the door of the house."

He turned back to the ladder, and put his foot on the first rung. Grunting, he put the flashlight in his mouth, as he climbed up. If he were only five years younger… he could have done this much easier… The ladder was rather poorly constructed as well, considering the crappy resources that must be available here.

He wanted to wipe the sweat off his brow while he was climbing, but found it was impossible to do that but still maintain his grip. He gripped the top rung, and pulled himself over the side.

Spitting the flashlight out of his mouth, Marty quickly grabbed it and switched it on. The high beams reflected the loft around him, illuminating the small space, revealing the cramped space.

Immediately he saw the edge of the loft, with another ladder leading down to the barn door. He cautiously crawled over to the edge, careful not to get to close. Scanning with his flashlight, he stopped again as he saw a pool of blood right on the edge of the loft. It was dripping off of the edge, a bucket lolling slightly to the side.

Slowly Marty peered over the edge, trying to get a glance. He leaned forward on his elbow, angling for a better view. However, his elbow slipped, and he involuntarily let go of the flashlight. It fell to the floor below with a soft thud.

"Damn," Marty muttered under his breath, as he held tight to the edge in the darkness. He took a look back, and could barely see the entrance to the loft in this night. Scrambling to his knees, he felt around, clutching his hand on something small and metallic.

Click. A small flicker of flame brought the darkness alive again, although its range was very small. He could see it was old and beat up, meaning it probably had very little light left in it.

He held it in front of him, as he very cautiously scrambled over to the ladder. It was a rope ladder this time, swaying unevenly in the night breeze. Marty shook his head as he began his slow descent.

The bottom of the barn was about ten feet or so from the loft, and he could discern a very rank smell. It hadn't been evident from up there, for reasons he didn't fully understand. Maybe it was the way the hay was structured or something.

He exhaled sharply, pulling his shirt over his mouth with his free hand. Halfway down he jumped, landing hard on the ground. The smell was worse then ever, and even in this dim light, he could tell where it was coming from.

It was a large bale of hay, and even from here, Marty could tell it was directly below where he had been leaning. Frowning, he cautiously walked over to it, keeping the light in front of him. It seemed there was some object on the pile, covered partly with hay…

He moved to brush them aside with his free hand. He soon wished he hadn't, as he pulled his shirt down and gasped in horror. His throat was immediately dry in an instant, and he felt for a terrible instant of how alone he was.

It was the man from the bar… he grimaced. Torres lay with his mouth opened, and his chest disemboweled at the gut. The intestines were dripping down the sides of the bale, now that he could see in the light. Flies obscured the actual wound, but he could tell the point of entry must have been deep.

There were a few other wounds, such as the right arm was torn off right at the joint. Bone sticking upward, as if the man had been trying to stave off the inevitable in those final moments.

Marty closed his eyes and looked away. There was nothing to be done here. He took a few steps back, and almost stumbled. Looking down, he could see it was a shallow depression looking like…

Marty's breath was once again taken away, almost distracting him from the body. He took out his cell phone in a second, flipping it open and scrolling down the functions. He couldn't get a very good picture in this light…but he wasn't about to go scrawling through the mud to try and find the flashlight.

At least not now, definitely not now. He took a quick snapshot of what he saw, making sure to save it. Silently, he put it back in his pants pocket to look back at the body. Something struck him as not quite right…

Some detail he was overlooking possibly? It was way too quiet in here, and he didn't like it. He thought maybe he should go back; get some other people down here as well. Slowly, he began backing up towards the rope.

He could hear the sound of his breath in the barn. The sound of his sweat hitting the floor. He knew in that instant, that Muldoon was not involved. At least not responsible for that level of damage to the body.

Taking one look back, Guitierrez's nerve failed him. He dashed over to the rope ladder, and started climbing.

The silence broke over him like a wave as he set the first foot down on the rung. He froze again as he heard the unmistakable sound of something shifting in the darkness. He could hear whatever it was sniffing the air, as it woke from whatever ungodly bed it lay.

Marty bit his lip, as he slowly and carefully as he took hold of the next rung. A loud coughs, hacking like a mad dog near the bale of hay. He closed his eyes as he heard the unmistakable sound of bones cracking.

That was absolutely it, if he continued like this; he would be a nervous wreck. Marty grabbed the rungs with both hands, letting the lighter fall to the floor. He winced as it made a very obvious clanging sound on the floor.

As soon as he felt the thing stirring at the sound, Marty started going faster. It was terror born of the unknown, of whatever might be lurking down in the darkness.

He was almost at the top now, almost at the top. He let himself relax, as he slowly reached for the edge.

And nearly fell. Only his strong grip on the rope with his other hand saved him from falling. Looking down he could not see what was wrong, only that the rope was twisting and turning. Something was tugging at it, trying to make the rope snap.

Trying to get at him. In horror, Marty saw the rope beginning to snap as more strain was put on it. He felt his grip slipping, gasping as he saw the fibers beginning to fray. He only had one hand free now, and he could feel his grip slipping.

No… he imagined he felt hot breath against his legs, as they struggled to keep their foothold. He flailed wildly with his other hand, reaching for something, anything to hold on to.

The rope snapped just then, and Marty was now dangling off of the edge with only one hand. But he felt that one slipping too. He felt a presence at the bottom, just waiting for him to slip and fall.

He struggled to get up, just as he felt something brush against his legs. Looking up, he was certain that he would fall. The dark shadow rose, surging up from the blackness, and he kicked out in vain.

Suddenly out of the darkness, he felt a hand wrap around his grasping arm. It was pulling him, but he couldn't quite get over the edge, no matter how he tried.

Somewhere outside the moon was coming out of the clouds, and the light shone briefly through the loft entrance. Baxter's face was visible out of the gloom, grunting with perspiration.

Marty had no time to think, for suddenly something hard and uneven brushed his feet. He kicked roughly against it, found brief footing. It surged up again, and he used that momentum to propel himself upwards.

Quickly, he rolled away from the loft edge, and stood panting in the gloom. He saw the kid breathing heavily as well, shaking his head. Marty gave him a nod, "thanks," he muttered under his breath. Maybe the kid had some use after all.

He realized that he had come this close to dying, but from what he still could not tell. It had been too dark in there to see anything really, but what mattered was that he had seen something.

The kid went down the ladder to outside first, and Marty followed. Even though he knew he was safe, he had never gone down a ladder so fast before. His heart was still pounding a million miles an hour, as if he couldn't believe it was real.

Leaning against the side of the barn, Marty took the cell phone out of his pocket. He wiped perspiration with his free hand as he took a good look at the picture he had taken in the light.

He took a deep breath, as the image was revealed. A deep impression in the mud, looked like tracks he had seen so long ago…on a beach so far away. But bigger, much bigger. Too large even to be from an animal such as that behind the bar.

He knew this represented trouble, though he was not sure how deep he was in it yet. If any word of this got out to the Costa Ricans… he knew they would not take a chance with this shit.

No, Marty had to call someone he could trust, someone who wouldn't hang up the phone immediately. He dialed the number, mentally waiting for it to pick up. "C'mon, c'mon," he said to himself. No answer, well…

He thought about the picture, well maybe that would be a better option, maybe just write a little note about where it was taken. That sounded like a better plan, at least to him.

With his mind made up, Marty sent the message to Richard Levine.


	9. Levine

The door slammed behind Richard Levine in the empty apartment. He sighed as he set his pack down carelessly on the couch, before sitting down. There was a peculiar sense of exhaustion about him, as if he had spent weeks without rest. His hair was disheveled and unkempt, and his stubble was dangerously close to forming a beard.

He sat down at the table, brushing aside the note from his housekeeper with a detached, distracted demeanor. Slowly he began to eat his soup, and as he did so he dwelled on the past week. The appetite really wasn't there anymore, not like in the old days. Back when he actually felt like doing something, and not going through the motions of life. When he'd had the strength and reserves to really enjoy his work.

The staff meetings were draining all the life from him, and he could feel it in his head. Those people had no sense of humor, none at all. It didn't help either that he was the youngest person in the boardroom either, not one bit. His Confucian quotes seemed to fall on deaf ears, and you could almost hear them tapping their fingers in impatience. Levine wasn't cut out for this shit, he never had been.

Supposedly there were things expected of him, which he'd only just begun to find out. Had to do with him getting older, out of that 'phase', or so the board had called his career as a world famous Paleontologist. Apparently being the heir to a hugely successful toy company was more important then that. Maybe that would interest some people, but not Richard Levine.

He looked up, staring at the far end of the room. Through the open door at the other end he could see his desk, with the INGEN computer still nestled on it. Still hadn't thought to throw the damn thing away, even though it had long past its usefulness. It was obsolete anyways, since a modern monitor was hooked up to the hard drive, and could handle the more complex tasks in a more efficient fashion.

He wondered how the network was doing; he hadn't had that much chance to check up on it these days, considering he had been stuck in meetings. Malcom had been number one on his contacts, to call him when there was anything interesting coming up. That number had not rung in three or for months. It seemed to him that it was fading out of his memory, even the image of the other man.

He was losing his will to eat anymore-just thinking about all this shit, and with a frustrated sigh, he stood up. Taking his half empty dish, he dumped it in the sink and grabbed his pack off of his couch. Looking at his watch he judged it was about eight or nine hours until the next meeting. Some shit about the marketing campaign for the new line of Becky dolls. Levine shook his head, thinking of what he'd like to say to them…

He was just about to head off to bed when he stopped. There was just something that made him stop, after all this was a wider gap between meetings then usual. He might as well log in, check his e-mail. Hell, maybe take a look at the network. He hadn't heard anything in the news, so he was certain that the connection should still be there. At least he hoped so.

He slung the pack over the chair and turned the computer on. It didn't take all that long to warm up, but while he waited he went to the kitchen and got himself some coffee. Probably a bad idea if he was planning to take a nap later, but for now he felt like he would fall asleep without it. That was a really bad habit to get into, but he couldn't think of a better way to keep himself awake at the moment. He was just too damned tired to care about anything, or almost anything at the very least.

Levine sighed as he took a sip of his coffee while scrolling down his emails. The usual reminders from the board of course, all unread. One or two from Malcom, dated a week or so ago. However the subject line was about academia, noting vague theories about how chaos would affect the Island. Way too deep for him, though personally he always thought the answer would turn out to be something simpler.

There was that email he'd sent three weeks ago to Grant. Even persuading Malcom to contact the guy hadn't gotten him to open up. Levine couldn't blame him of course; the man probably wanted nothing to do with another Island, and all the responsibility that entailed. Well that was it for his messages, so Levine decided it was time to check the network.

He opened up another window, waiting for it to load. The connection seemed to take a bit longer then usual, though he couldn't remember since it had been at least a month since last time. He had to wait for the live feed to load on his computer, and for the signal to process. It was worth it though, the perfect way to feel better about himself after a shitty day like today.

Levine loosened his tie and took off his jacket coat, draping it over the chair. Rolling up his sleeves, he took another sip of his coffee. He watched the feed slowly come onto live mode, and a prompt came on screen. He smiled, typing in the password the kid had wrote down so long ago. Sitting back, the screen then prompted him for which camera he'd like to access.

There were ten or twelve different cameras in all, in past times Levine had spent hours just staring at them and making observations. However, he was too busy now, and life was intruding in his work. It was a damn shame, but that was the way it had turned out for him. He was only interested in one camera today, clicking on the one that indicated the river valley. He took a quick glance at the sticky note attached to the side of the monitor. 'River Valley observe… ' He shook his head, a tired sigh escaping his lips.

The monitor came into focus now, and he could see the camera's point of view. He had long speculated where exactly the tree the camera was located was on, but he suspected it might be somewhere he had passed. The view was similar to the one from the high hide, where he'd looked over the long grass. Except now it was five or six years later.

He sat up, as the feed began again. It was quite a picturesque scene indeed, the river flowing lazily between the valley and the long grass. Like a scene from a Lost World…unspoiled by humans. He allowed himself a wry smile knowing the irony in that though. Against the riverbank, there lay a large slumped carcass, the bones of its mammoth ribs bleaching in the sun. Levine frowned again, and typed in the command for the camera to narrow its focus.

He could see clearly that the body had not been disturbed; in fact there were no broken bones that he could see. The animal had died by the riverbank, its head sticking out of the grass, familiar crested skull shining in the sun. _Parasaurolophus Walkeri, _Levine thought to himself and it was odd how detached he seemed. A vanished giant, seemingly alone in the field and defying time.

He examined the bank of the river, knowing the soft mud would betray any prints. Frowning again he grabbed his pad and a pen. He scribbled down 'Three months' and stuck it to the side of the monitor. That was odd…bad news indeed. But he should have expected it really. Why had he expected any different? This result was no different then the past three months.

Hell, he had watched the Parasaur die on live feed, expecting predators to move in any second. A day, then a week, finally three whole months. He leaned back in his chair as he contemplated what this meant. No predation on the carcass, not even scavengers. No scavengers meant no corpses taken by predators… no predators meant there was a lack of prey… He hsook his head finally, unwilling to believe until he had seen.

He scrolled through the other cameras, wanting to see something that wasn't there. His eyes did not betray him though, as he saw no sign of other animals, none at all. He closed his eyes shaking his head. The island was free of sign, except for the corpse at the river. What did it mean? If there was anything that would take his mind off of the board meetings this was it.

He was about to get up, shaking his head in silence. Was that it? Levine wondered idly. It had been a folly, a glorious one but one destined to failure. The Island was dead. Isla Sorna was dead, and there were no damn dinosaurs on it now. Nothing lived and breathed from sixty-five million years. He thought to himself that he would continue logging onto the network, if only to confirm this.

Now it was time for a nap, to get ready for the board meeting tomorrow. Levine got up from the chair and was about to log out when the phone rang. With an exasperated sigh, he reached over the chair to see who was calling. It was a text message actually; maybe it was from the board… He paused as he saw the sender, and the subject line. It was enough to make him sit straight down, and right up in that chair.

Marty Guitierrez hadn't heard from that asshole in years. Mainly he'd been trying to avoid talking to him. Especially after he heard the whole story of his involvement once they'd gotten back safely from Isla Sorna. To sit there with a straight face and claim it was just an Iguana… He shook his head at the audacity of the man. The sheer baldf-aced audacity of it all. Marty sure had guts lying to his face like that with no pause whatsoever.

The message came with an attachment so he decided to open that first, maybe read whatever Marty wanted him to know later. He took another sip of his coffee while the picture loaded. He almost dropped the cup when it did. He felt a lump in his throat when he saw the date and timestamp on the photo. What was this… he couldn't even begin to process it.

A footprint, a goddamn footprint in shitty light. Like it was taken in a building or something. But the obvious characteristics where there. Even in the bad lighting, he could tell what had made it. Not the exact species of course, but it was obviously a large therapod, perhaps a medium size carnivore. Maybe seven or eight feet tall judging from the size of the print. He shook his head as he enlarged the picture on his phone just to be sure. Yes, there was no mistaking what he was seeing.

Attachment read "Levine…don't know if I can trust you with this but… What is this?" That was it. No description of location or anything. Levine felt a rising sort of dull anger building up in him, biting his lip and shaking his head futility. After all this time, the denial and the lying the man just came forward like this.

He didn't know quite what it meant though. Had Marty discovered Isla Sorna? He certainly hadn't detected any signs of human presence on the network cameras but he should have. Regardless he had a way to find out, and in a few short minutes Levine would know exactly where this came from.

Being the heir to a multimillion-dollar company sometimes held its perks. For example, he was able to finance the latest technology for his office, coupled with the most cutting edge software. Placing the phone on the desk, he grabbed a cable from the jumbled mess under the desk. He then used it to connect the phone to the hard drive.

Minimizing the network window, Levine opened up another application. He selected the option to transfer call data, and waited a few seconds. Every phone call had to be directed from somewhere, and even when using a Sat phone, those waves could usually be directed back to their point of origin. Thus, he was not surprised when the program gave him his answer almost instantaneously. But the answer was not what he had expected at all. Not in Sixty-five million years.

The signal was coming from the mainland, in some shit-piss little village in Costa Rica. About five or ten miles inland he wasn't sure. Anyway he clicked again and downloaded the co-ordinates to the village to his phone. He was almost about to exit, when another window popped up. Levine scratched at his stubble as he read it. Apparently Levine hadn't been the only recipient of the call, even though his name had been the only one on the sender.

It was called 'signal hijacking' or whatever the hackers said nowadays. Where someone could fix a phone to send the message to another unlisted number as well, regardless of the sender's intent. He frowned, his brow furrowing against his unkempt hair.

"Damn it!" he said, even though no one could hear him in the empty apartment. He knew what this meant, that this picture was no longer confidential. He bit on his lip again, shaking his head. Before he knew it he was already standing up, feeling alert in an odd way that he hadn't been just a half hour earlier. He looked down at himself, still clad in business attire.

That message had been sent six hours ago. He thought to himself. Six hours. He ran his hands through his head, knowing he would almost certainly miss the board meeting. Ah to hell with them, this was more important. Besides, this was what he'd trained for his whole life. It was calling him again, Costa Rica. Once again he would face the beasts of nightmare.

Once again. He grabbed his phone as he headed for his closet. No use going to Costa Rica in these nice clothes. The number of his travel agent was on speed-dial. "Yes, hello." He paused. "When's your next flight out to Costa Rica?"

It was buried in his closet, but he found it again, his binoculars. Clutching them to his chest, he wondered what he was getting himself into. Maybe he should contact Malcom… no. He had a dread certainty that the other someone was already well on their way. Levine knew what he had to do. It was dreadfully simple, yet the most frightening prospect ever.

Richard Levine would have to go alone.


	10. Muldoon

Robert Muldoon sighed as he leaned back in his chair. He watched the rain streaming past the barred windows and gurgling somewhere up in the gutter. The storm had come swiftly in the night, with no warning whatsoever. In the distance he could hear the thunder crackling, the lightning flashing for a second against the window frame. Then all was silent again, for a few precious seconds.

Muldoon closed his eyes, clutching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He slowly eased the crust that had built up after those nights sleep, and looked away from the window. He was sitting upright in a chair, his feet resting on an end table. In his arms was cradled a SPAS-12 shotgun, his right hand was clutching the stock, and his left, the barrel. He held it tight to his chest, as if he was afraid of losing it.

As he sat up, he knocked over the liquor bottles and shotgun shells that littered the end table. His mouth was parched and dry, and his eyes were bloodshot. It had been a sleepless night, one plagued with night terrors and insomnia. He got up from the chair slowly; still hanging on to his gun like it was some kind of comfort. He felt a calamity in his head, he felt like a stiff. He felt his eyes unable to focus, his gaze wandering around the room. It felt so different, although that could just be because of the drink.

He felt his legs buckle slightly under him, as he tried to maintain his balance. Muldoon let go of the gun as he raised his hand to steady his head. He tried to remember, but it was all a haze. He had come back to his compound screaming and yelling, but the rest of it seemed lost in a haze. Last night… he bit his lip and scratched his stubble as he racked his brains. All that came to mind was a half muddled light, shining in the proverbial darkness. He couldn't make it out, only that it seemed so bright, and what had appeared had been so utterly beyond what he had been expecting.

He felt a sense of loss, as if he had failed somehow in a way that he didn't understand. His head was still throbbing, and he thought that maybe he needed something to clear it up a bit. Aspirin maybe, or something a bit stronger for this hangover. That was right, just something to clear the head a bit, make him remember what exactly made him gulp down four bottles of cheap Mexican beer. He knew it had to be something bad. Normally on his worst days he only could get down two and a half.

Grasping the gun by the pistol grip, he leaned onto the wall with the other hand. Slowly, he staggered his way to the door, which lay half open propped up with a chair. He raised the gun slightly, feeling his palm sweat as he looked to each side. The hall was empty, and he could see the muddy tracks of his boots leading out to the main exit. He wondered vaguely if he had bothered to close the door, and then remembered that the door shut automatically after each person entered, the way he'd planned it.

All the precautions of an old man, he thought to himself with a wry shake of his head. He turned to go to the medicine cabinet, when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Old habit forced him to act quickly, raising the gun as he drew in his breath. Only his practiced hand paused a very second before he hit the trigger, preventing him from shooting out the monitor on the opposite wall. He let himself relax, but only for a second. There was a blinking red light, just flashing on and off. Shit, it was sort of giving him a headache, since it was reflecting right in his eye. The light had one purpose he knew, to inform him there was somebody at the gates.

Shit. He thought, as he walked the opposite direction. He didn't really feel like receiving any visitors, at least not this late in the morning. Muldoon set the gun down in an alcove along the wall, and draped a blanket over it. Sometimes he thought he was being too careful, and other times he thought he was not nearly careful enough. He passed by the coat rack on the way to the door, and he grabbed the hat he'd left there, it was still a bit damp from last night.

He opened the door, turning down the brim of his hat so that he would not catch the rain on his face. Looking up, Muldoon closed the door behind him with the back of his hand. The yard was a complete mess, mud everywhere due to the onslaught of the storm. He walked gingerly on the concrete slabs leading outward from the door, as he made his way to the gate. He could see his visitor, and inside he couldn't help smirking a bit. So at long last the man decided to come and talk to him, when he tried to pretend he didn't even know him. Oh how the mighty have fallen, he thought in that moment.

Leaning up close to the fence, he was careful not to touch it. With the rain coming down this hard, frankly he was surprised that there wasn't an electrical short somewhere. Well, he'd learned from the past, and the fuse box was inside, insulated from the rain. Still, the water would be a natural conductor of electricity, and anyone touching this would be subject to ten thousand volts. So Robert Muldoon simply stared with bloodshot eyes at his guest, Marty Guitierrez. Damn, if there were an award for unexpected appearances, this man would win first place. He thought it was best to get to the point, and quickly too.

Given how hard the rain was coming down, Muldoon wasn't that surprised the other man was wearing a slicker, which was plainly not his size. "Nice day isn't it?" He cracked, finding it impossible to resist. "So what brings you out here today," he said levelly, trying to straighten himself out. He started walking a bit to the side, towards the entrance to the gate. After a second, he saw Marty follow him, their eyes locked as they walked.

"It's not exactly time for pleasantries is it Robert?" There was a haunting familiarity in there that rubbed him the wrong way, and he found his grin disappearing off of his face. "There's something I want to talk to you about, what happened last night for instance."

Muldoon closed his eyes again, raising his head so that the rain could fall on his face. It felt cool to the touch, and he could taste the humidity in the air. He took a deep breath, opening his eyes again. "I wish I could tell you that Marty, I really do." The plain fact of the matter was that where last night was concerned, Muldoon was drawing a blank. The events of eight hours ago simply did not exist in his memory.

"But there's absolutely nothing that I remember…"

"Really?" Marty seemed to withdraw into himself, as if he was thinking. "Because I really need to know. What happened in the barn last night?" He was walking a bit faster if anything, forcing Muldoon to quicken his pace as well. He found his mouth drawing into a hard line, as some part of him started to remember…yes he had been in the barn last night but…"what happened in the barn last night?"

He looked ahead through the pouring rain, biting his lower lip as he walked on. He could see the gate now, the only real entrance and exit to the compound. They would be there in a matter of seconds, and he would make up his mind then. After all, the situation wasn't that dire…was it? "It's contained," he said without really knowing why. "It's stable, the situation is stable… it can't get out." He didn't know why his throat was dry when he said that, or why he suddenly found that he stopped walking.

They were face to face now, staring at each other from opposite sides of the gate. Muldoon looked down, seeing the protective cover for the handprint entry. His arm started to raise, but he looked back at Marty, feeling a sense of anticipation. "Is it stable?" He found himself blurting out, a bit quicker then he'd expected. He found his heart beating very fast now, though he felt he didn't want to know the answer.

"I don't know what when on between you and that man Muldoon, but he's dead now." The words seemed to reberate through his head, and he felt himself taken aback. If there was ever anything to get someone sober in two seconds, there was it. "He's dead and his guts are all over the floor of the barn." Marty stopped a second, shaking his head. "You know how this looks don't you Robert? You were the only person there with him last night."

Without consciously noticing it, Muldoon's hand slipped into the hand scanner, and he heard a dull 'beep' indicating the authorization. The gate slowly began retracting to the side, although Muldoon didn't move. He could have but he didn't, just stared ahead feeling like he couldn't breathe. He felt a surge of anger inside him, something just needing to get out. "What are you going to do about it then?" he said, feeling a bit of confidence rising inside him. "Shitty little village like this, you can do absolutely nothing about that, right?"

Marty Guitierrez raised his head, and Muldoon was surprised at how tired he seemed. "I wish that were the case Robert," he said at last. "Actually I don't know how they found out but…the Costa Ricans are here."

Muldoon froze in an instant, the sort you remember everything in. The memories of last night flooded in, and it all seemed to come back too fast. He couldn't deal with it, and he was forcing his brain to process the events one at a time. "But how…" he found himself moving without consciously thinking about it, grabbing Marty by the arm and just walking on. It wasn't that far to go, and the other man didn't struggle or put up a fight. He just let himself be led on by Muldoon to the edge of the clearing.

Like Gandoca, Muldoon had built his compound on a hill, but his was slightly smaller, although he could see the whole village from here. He stopped when he came into view of the clearing, shaking his head. "Get down," he said to Marty, more out of practiced sense then any real threat. He looked out, craning his neck but at the same time trying to remain inconspicuous. He could see the helicopter in the clearing near the bar, even through this rain. It was getting ready to leave he saw, and there were three figures standing beside it.

"They arrived before dawn," Marty said in a whisper beside him. "Said all non-essential personnel had to leave the village immediately." He leaned forward a bit for a better look. "Said the doctor, and the barman could stay, but nobody else. " Muldoon gave him a funny look, wondering why…it didn't fit. Only three people…"Also said I could, since I was the first responder, they need me to show them the scene after they evacuate everyone."

So that was it…Muldoon looked to his left, and saw a slow line of beat up trucks exit the village in a morose parade. He thought vaguely of people who had lived there all their lives, just get kicked out one day when the authorities come knocking. That didn't sit well with him, not in his gut. He felt his fists clench, he wasn't sure what to do about that or even if he could do anything.

"Three of them," he found himself repeating like a broken record. "Did you get what they looked like?" Something was bothering him about the operation. The Costa Ricans would never send an operation this small for something this large of a scale. He watched the last few trucks disappear down the bend and out of sight. He wondered where they were even going, probably they themselves didn't even know.

"They were dressed in Camouflage gear and are armed with Machine guns," Marty said. "I think… I didn't get a good look at their leader though. He kept his back to me, and his subordinate told me everything. Then the other one, some chick started yelling at me so I decided to leave until the evacuation was over."

Muldoon was silent for a second. "I'm only going to say this once Marty." He turned his head to face the other man and his face was hard and tired at the same time. "Those guys aren't Costa Rican. It's just not how they do things." He shook his head. "But…." He was thinking and he knew because he finally remembered last night, it had all come back to him. And he knew from the look on Marty's face that they both knew what he was going to say next.

"Right," Marty said. "I'm going to go down to them, show them the barn." He started to get up, but Muldoon only got up halfway. "I'm not going to tell them you're here but I recommend you get ready, because what's coming might be bad."

Muldoon grabbed the tree trunk, pulled himself up and nodded. "Might be bad? Marty there's a whole shitstorm this way. Only question is if these guys have the training to handle it." Something was bothering him, the same question that had bothered him last night and these past five years. "I don't know what's in there though. It's big, but I don't know what it is."

Marty gave him a look, breaking the unspoken code of silence for the first time in ten years. "Raptor?" He had heard enough of the Nublar incident to know he should be worried if there was one of them here.

"No…" Muldoon's eyes were distant, and he took a deep breath. "I thought it might be…for the longest time." He turned away from Marty and started walking back towards the compound. "You go down there, alone. Get the kid to safety and the doctor too. When the shooting starts…"

Muldoon looked back at his compound, mentally picturing the barn in his mind. Too big for a raptor, besides it would've climbed that ladder. A Dilo? It was possible but…. He just did not have the information right now.

"I'll be there," he said, and started walking back to the compound.


	11. Chaos Theory

Guitierrez walked down the hill in the pouring rain, swearing under his breath. He'd half expected Muldoon would react that way, overdramatize everything. Of course in the hearings nearly ten years ago, he'd sort of gathered that impression of the man Completely drunk of course, Marty wondered if there was ever a moment that man was sober. It was sad to see the disengration of the man, and it was probably for the best that the man was going to hide out in his compound until this storm blew over.

The wind whipped in his face, and his brow was drenched in rain. He knew that the village was empty now with the exception of maybe five or six people. Maybe eight at most. He was wondering where they had all gone, the ones that remained at least. In the five or six days he'd been here, he found it was an unnatural quiet walking down the path and seeing and hearing nobody besides himself. Well, there were always the sounds of the jungle,

But even today the jungle seemed quiet, almost as if a great swell had descended. Marty had been in a hurricane before, and this was the same feeling you got in the eye of the storm. He quickened his pace, walking past the bar. Still nobody, he wondered were they had all gone. Maybe he would be able to get the kid away from the scene. He knew why the doctor had been allowed to stay, in case of… inconvenient accidents. Well, shit happened and he knew it but…

He reached the end of the path, right in front of his tent. Whipping aside the front, he saw… nothing. "Shit," he muttered under his breath and looked around. The kid was gone, he wondered vaguely where. "Shit," He swore again under his

breath as he burst out the other end of the tent. The hood of this slick was really impairing his vision, and even though the rain was really coming down in buckets now, he took it off. Immediately, he found he could see better, even if his head and shoulders were immediately drenched.

Somewhere thunder boomed, and he could see a lone figure standing in front of him. Man at the base of the hill smoking a cigarrete in the rain. Cupping his hands so as to shield the flame. Marty approached cautiously, noticing the machine gun cradled over his shoulder. If what Muldoon had said was true… "Hey!" Marty called out, through the rain to catch the man's attention. He could see a bit beyond, where there were fresh footprints on the muddy hill. The one that led up to the barn…

"Hay is for Horses," The man replied, taking his cigarette out, and blowing out the smoke into the deluge. He looked up at him, and in that moment Marty saw something in his eyes that made him step backward. It was an almost feral glance, with viscous intelligence behind it. The man smiled at him nodding his head upward in the direction of the barn. "A little bird told us where the party is," a wry laugh disturbed pouring rain.

"Listen, " Marty began, "you have what you guys came for just let me leave in peace okay-" he heard the gun cocking, and sweat dropped down his brow. It mixed with the rain, and was soon indistinguishable. The man only nodded his head upwards, indicating that Marty should go up. Didn't leave him with much choice did he… He shook his head at the man, and began walking. Behind him he heard the man follow.

As he ascended he saw the rest of them gathered near the barn. The barman was ascending the outside ladder, presumably to act as some sort of lookout, Marty had no idea. He saw Dr. Carter standing against the sidewall, her medical bag at the ready. He nodded to her; she gave him a cold glance. Well, he figured, there's nothing longer then a woman's memory. He wondered if she had any idea what they were about to face here. Maybe she would be looking at him a little differently then.

There was another one of the armed soldiers (mercenaries?) well if Muldoon was right that was a possibility. Only it was a woman this time, hair a dark brown. She scowled at him, and motioned with her gun for him to move to the side. Marty just shrugged, taking the space beside Dr. Carter. He noticed Carter step slightly to the side as he approached, but figured that was probably about right.

He turned his head, and a scowl of his own escaped his lips. The kid was over there, walking in his direction. Directly behind him was a man he'd recognize on sight anywhere. The very man who had funded his research expedition… It didn't take a genius to figure out that Baxter had told them it was in the barn. Damn kid, should've waited for him to come back, instead of going off on his own. He would've done something about it too, except for all these armed people.

Now the man was approaching him, his two armed associates taking up positions on opposite sides from the barn door. Marty watched Ed James stop at the lock to the barn door, almost as if he was contemplating it. But only for a second, before he stepped back. Waiting for a signal. All three of the newcomers had their guns aimed towards the opening, and nobody was moving a muscle. It reminded Marty of some movie he'd watched a long time ago, and dimly he wondered what was going to happen next.

He got his answer soon enough, after Baxter passed him. The kid started to protest some excuse, but Marty wasn't having it, armed men or not. "Next time wait for me asshole," he said, not exactly under his breath. Maybe he shouldn't have left Muldoon's compound after all, if he was going to be trapped like this. He thought that maybe it might be worth it to make a run for the jungle, but how far away from civilization was it?

"Mr. Guitierrez?" Marty turned his head at the sound, only to hear a crack. A gunshot, he thought wildly, feeling his chest out of instinct. No, he turned his head, to see that the lock was on the floor, shattered into two pieces. "Mr. Guitierrez, I believe we need your assistance." It was James calling him, across the downpour. Marty could see it now, that the other man's head was completely free of helmet or hat. The man was grinning at him, it seemed like a horrific leer through the pounding rain.

Marty knew what he needed to do, without the man having to remind him. He grimly walked to the doors of the barn, now with only a plank keeping the doors locked. He grunted as he shifted his weight to accommodate the heavy beam. Stepping back under the weight, he turned sideways and dropped it on the ground.

Then Marty Guitierrez walked back to the doors, grasping the twin handles. He felt the hinges creak, as they hadn't been open in how many years? He couldn't even begin to guess, and frankly he did not want to.

He grunted again, a sigh escaping his lips, as he pulled outward. The doors only resisted slightly before they gave way. He glimpsed the blackness within, and could almost feel it staring back at him. It was a void, for some reason seeming darker then when he'd actually been inside. It occurred to him vaguely that this might be a good time to move. His legs helped him, jumping to the side of the door. Just in time too, for he could see the mercenaries getting closer.

Up where he supposed the loft was, he saw a fragile beam of light. It was sweeping the floor, he knew looking for any sign of motion. But there was nothing, but Marty knew there was only one way to be completely sure. From the look in James's eye, he knew that as well. Marty hung on to the edge of the door, hesitant to peek into the barn, but his curiosity driving him mad. He could only watch as the three of them went into the barn, he knew…searching. There would be a pause of course; they couldn't afford to harm such a rare specimen. They would be switching for tranquillizer rounds right about…

Marty took that chance to dash across the front entrance. It would all be over, maybe in two or three seconds. He paused halfway, waiting for the shots that never came. It was odd though, seeing the searchers illuminated against the lights, trying to look in every nook and cranny. In the corner of his eye, Marty saw Baxter and Carter noticing his jumpy behavior. He held out a hand to reassure them, everything was going to be all right. After all… it would be taken care off in five seconds and he could go back to normal. Keep telling yourself that Marty, he thought.

He wasn't a fool. Three people with machine guns. Practically no witnesses in the entire village and an operation illegal as hell. He knew how this could end, but he didn't want it too. Hopefully they would be happy with what they had and just leave. Money had bought Marty's silence before; it could buy it again for all he knew. He saw them coming out, a bit faster then he'd expected. He frowned, something was wrong. Something was more then a little off here…

"There's nothing here," Ed James said in a scarily calm voice as he stepped out into the rain. "Your boy led me on." He shook his head, and Marty took a careful look at the gun. He was trying to gauge if it held tranquilizer rounds or bullets. Best to act cool, stay calm. He would know, perhaps in a matter of seconds or minutes.

"I swear there was something in here…" Marty's words died on his lips, and he felt his throat dry up. He blinked, trying to comprehend what he was seeing, but his words and his imagination was failing him. He stepped back a pace, not even looking at James. Or rather…

""Hello? Have you gone deaf?" James took a step forward and paused. Marty knew he sensed it too, that something was wrong. Very wrong indeed. From inside the barn the odor of foul carrion wafted into his nostrils, and Marty wondered how long the carcass had remained intact. Long enough for the animal to get hungry when it wasn't fed at its appointed time? Perhaps… And who said how it would react to its cage being opened?

The barman's light was like a beacon, lighting through the darkness of the barn, onto James. Marty was reminded of a prism, how when light shot through one end, it came out different. It was…. he was seeing something very like that here. The darkness behind James was not completely solid, he realized to his mounting horror. No, he'd most definitely seen something move, something out of place. He took another look back at Carter and the kid, motioning for them to get out of here.

By now it had gone completely silent, not even the grunts were making any noise at all. One by one they turned very slowly, James being the last of them all. He gasped audibly as the light swung back up. The darkness seemed to take on an odd shimmer, as the light swayed back and forth. Finally, it stopped altogether, as a low growl came from the barn.

Immediately everyone stepped back a bit, even the kid and Carter. The light beam also stopped right where it was, frozen in place. Marty could hear the mercenaries checking their magazine capacities quickly, preparing to fire. He waited for a long moment… but nothing came. He let out a deep breath, wondering for a second. Would the growl repeat itself, was it just a trick of their imaginations? He found himself tightening his fists, hoping against hope against hope…

The growl came again, and something walked out of the shadows. No one could tell what it was right away, mainly because it was translucent against the gloom. But everyone could see it, tell that it was big. Massive even. The light was shimmering off of its frame, but even from here Marty could make a crude guess as to size. Seven or eight feet…that was just a crude estimate.

"Shoot it!" He could hear the yells, seeming to come from far away now. "Shoot it!" The sound of three guns going off at once almost deafened him, and for a second he couldn't see what was going on through the glare. However he stepped forward again, seeing the rounds that were falling down. One of them rolled over to his feet that were the sheer force the rounds were being ejected. He saw what it was… a dart. The kind you used to tranquilize Alligators, he suspected. But that meant…

That the dosage was probably too small, all it would do was make it angry. As he realized that of course he heard a yell from above him. James was looking at his gun in anger, and frustration, throwing it down before running in his direction. Marty could barely move, before the other three followed suit, though he noticed the woman was merely firing over her shoulder at this point.

The thing was now plainly visible, and with a shudder, Marty realized he recognized it. Not by name but by sight. On a deserted beach with Levine watching it go up in flames… The thing was hideous beyond his imaginings, the two horns seeming to mock his imagination and disbelief. I exist, it seemed to be telling him, I exist and you don't.

He didn't even stop to take off his slicker at this point, just ripped it off. He figured it would drag him down too much. He saw to his left the Kid making a run for the man's house, and the Doctor sort of frozen in fear. Looking behind him, Marty saw the massive dinosaur turn its head towards him. Roaring, a loud unearthly sound that filled his ears with the years of pain and rage and hate. It was gaining on him, and he really had no time at all to really process it.

Nothing about the animal's appearance registered with him at all. It was large and scaly and had horns. That was it. Panic had taken over, adjusting his eyesight so he only saw the important things. That, and it was gaining on him.

He tried to turn for the house as well, and he almost made it. Somewhere in the rush and bustle, things had gotten a little knocked around. Namely that seemingly insignificant wooden beam. His foot betrayed him, sending him stumbling off to the side. He let loose a gasp, flailing his arms desperately trying to keep his balance. But the gambit failed, and fell, just as the Carnotaur ducked its head in a side sweep. It missed, sweeping the air where his torso would've been just a second earlier.

However, his right leg caught a glancing blow, the force being enough to send him toppling over to the side. Marty Guitierrez had a rough landing, falling down on his face. Daze he looked up, seeing the large bulk of the animal going past him. Seemingly oblivious to the shouts of the mercenaries, it was heading for the surrounding forest. He felt his head swimming, finding it hard to focus. With a great effort, he turned himself on to his back.

The mercenaries passed him without stopping, and looking back he saw them disappear into the jungle as well. Looking down he saw his leg, a huge gash right in the side. He tried to move it… almost certainly broken. It made him feel dizzier just doing it…he felt like he just needed to close his eyes, let the pain go away. The fever was breaking down over his head, as he laid his head back down. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was Dr. Carter running towards him, Medical bag in hand.


	12. ER

In the immediate seconds following the attack Roberta Carter was numb with shock. When the animal had charged out of the barn she felt some part of her brain refusing to acknowledge the thing. It was just utterly beyond belief, beyond her imagination, yet unabashedly real. It was just there, and bellowing into the night sky. Her ears filled with the sound of guns firing and people running… and somehow she couldn't find it in her to move. Like her feet had been frozen to the spot right there and then. She wanted to do something anything run and hide she didn't know.

Only that the abomination was roaring into the night sky, defying the fact that by right something like it should've been extinct 65 million years ago. It was amazing how one could be looking directly at it but not be able to process it, not be able to remember what it looked like five seconds later. It was more the presence of the beast. There was a feeling of relief when it completely ignored her but continued on its path. Quickly looking to her side, she noticed the kid was frozen too. Well that was understandable…

Looking back she was just in time to see Marty running from the creature. For a while it looked like he was going to get away but then that beam…wincing as the man was whipped into the air, she took a step forward. The animal wasn't looking in her direction, only roaring some more. Now the firing was resuming again, but slower. It was circling them, as if anticipating a move or something. Finally one of the mercenaries got too close she suspected, and it charged at them.

Lucky man got to the side just in time. But the beast didn't stop going, just kept charging right into the trees. The men right after it, disappearing into the underbrush, which swallowed them up rapidly. It was only a second or two after, but already Carter felt the will go back into her legs. Seeing Guitierrez get on his back she could see the extent of his injuries. Luckily she had her medical bag in hand, when she had basically been forced by the mercenaries to assist in case of any injuries. But that wasn't important right now, not at all. She ran blindly to his side, biting her lip when she saw his head slump back. Not here, not now, she thought to herself. "No!" she shouted, knowing that they were a long way away from any sort of civiliation. By road… she didn't even want to think about it and all the cars were surely gone by now right? Yes this was a very bad situation out here in the rain in a shitty village in the middle of nowhere.

When she reached his side she knelt down to assess his condition. Feeling for a pulse she put her finger to the side of his neck. Very faint…very faint. Turning her head she looked at the wound. Completely covered in mud but she could tell it was bad. There was nothing she could do for it out here in the elements though, especially not with this goddamned rain coming down like a hurricane. She needed to get him to a hospital and fast, or at least if she was back in Chicago she would've said that. Now, the best she could hope for was somewhere dry they could do the basics and hope the man would live.

Looking up she saw the kid just standing there, and a little off to the side she saw the barman coming back into the clearing. "Well don't just stand there… come and help!" She quickly assessed as to where to take him. Obviously it was a goddamned miracle the man hadn't died of shock already. There was the barn but she didn't like that reek that was coming from it. Also that was where the animal had come from so she didn't even want to think about what sort of shit might be in there. Down to the village was possible the only question was whether it might be too risky to move him so far in his state.

Something caught her eye as the men ran towards her. Of course she thought to herself that strange hermit who owned the barn lived near here didn't he? That meant that was his house just behind them the whole time. That solidified it for her, which was the only place they could conceivably take him. Looking up again she smiled a bit as they finally reached her side. The kid's face was pale, and she sort of knew his pain…it looked bad on your record when your supervising professor died or got injured. Well wasn't that just perfect, and everybody felt the pain together.

"I need you guys to help me lift him," she said stepping a bit away from Marty's prone form. She winced a bit; trying not to look at that leg, she knew it was going to get infected most likely, and that would be nasty. "You grab the legs and I guess you take the body," she said just randomly assigning each of them a job. Of course she knew she couldn't lift either side, but she could do more about the situation then either of them right now. "Quickly, before it comes back," she said wiping the rain out of her face. A quick, nervous look at the forest, she thought she could hear a distant roar but was that her imagination? Best not to leave those things to chance really.

She observed as they lifted the prone body of Guitierrez, the barman handing her the flashlight beforehand. That was good, it was still relatively early in the day but come night they might need it. As they walked nobody spoke the mood was relatively somber almost as if it was physically weighing everyone down. It really shouldn't be raining that much she knew it wasn't the right time of the year or something. But it was something of a relief to watch the rain wash all the mud and crap off of Marty's prone form. Well not all of it but most of it and that was the main thing for right now.

The house was just ahead, she ran ahead a bit, tried the door. Opened pretty reasonably for the moment, though nobody seemed to be at home. She hadn't seen him in the mandatory evacuation, and briefly she wondered where he might be. Well for now that wasn't important, the patient was. She shined her flashlight inside, moving to the right as the men walked through the door. It seemed in an okay state, not perfect. Like someone had just up and left leaving everything in this state.

Now that they were all in the house, she slammed the door behind them. Taking off her rain slicker, she tossed it off into the corner. Pausing to wipe her glasses on her shirt, she directed the men as to where to place Marty. She thought of the bedrooms, but realized she needed a solid surface to work with. Maybe later if he came through but for now she needed something like…

She saw the kitchen table, though there was a ton of crap on it. Like the man had never cleaned, or hadn't had a chance too. Thankfully no rotten food, but there were dirty plates all over the surface of the table. "Over here!" She called out, gesturing to the table. It was just the perfect size and width to lay Marty's body on…. She thought for a second, and started pulling the chairs out of the way. She could tell the men were getting sort of tired and she knew they needed to set him down fast. Taking a breath she started just throwing all the crap to the floor. There was surprisingly a lot of it, so she just threw it under the tabe so it wouldn't interfere with her work.

Stepping back, she motioned that it was okay to put Marty on the table now. They did so, and his prone body was limp and slack as they let go of him. Dr. Carter immediately knew that she needed to do a couple things first, and so she drew up to of the other chairs close up. Sitting in the first, she placed her bag on the other. Looking up at the men she shook her head. "He's in shock right now… " She pointed to the barman, "You go to the bedroom, get a pillow or something to prop his head up with." Not looking to see if he did or not she turned to the kid. "You…" she tried to think, looking back at the wound. "Go to the sink, fill a pitcher, bowl or glass of the largest size you can find with water and come back here."

As he went as well, she felt the pulse again. Still faint, though at least he was breathing. The injuries seemed to be mostly centered around his leg now, she could see because someone had turned on the light somehow. There was still a shitload of mud on his leg, and she looked around for something to wipe it off with. Luckily she noticed something rolling on the floor under the chair. That roll of paper towels she'd knocked off while clearing the table. Ducking down she grabbed it and ripped off a few towels, placing the rest on the same chair as her medical bag. She tried to daub as much of it as she could, but there was a lot if it frankly. About ten or fifteen crumpled up paper towels hit the floor, before she was halfway satisfied.

"I got it…" the kid began, nearly scaring her half to death. Nodding, she turned around and grabbed the pitcher of water from him. Carefully, she dipped some more paper towels in the water and gently daubed it over the area. Still not as clean as she would like it, but it was probably as clean as it was going to get. She needed to wash it out but to do that… She shook her head, looking up as the barman came back with the pillow. As he placed it under Marty's head, Carter had an idea. "You," she said to the barman, "Go back to the bar, and get me some of bottles of liquor. I really don't care which, beer, whiskey, Champagne whatever. Just do it!"

She watched him go, as if in a daze. He took the flashlight, before she had a chance to say anything. Well if it made him feel any better, man hadn't said jack shit and neither had the kid. Probably the stress and mental shock had rendered them numb. Understandable but all the same they had a patient to attend to here, and back in Chicago they never let their personal trauma interfere with the care of a patient. She was a doctor now, processing events not as a bystander or witness, but as a caregiver. If this man died, it would be on her, regardless of anything she might feel towards him.

"You," she said to the kid in a more authoritative voice. "Go get a kitchen towel or rag or something, like a used shirt." She watched him stumble off to the bedroom again as she continued to clean the affected area. Gently she sort of splashed the water onto the upper leg, being careful not to douse the leg. Next she set the towels and the water down, and stood up. She grabbed both ends of his torn pants leg, and ripped it down the middle, and to the side just ripping out the entire pant leg at the knee. Now at least she could see the wound a bit better. She made a split second diagnosis, determining what could be the best fix for this. Obviously the man needed a tourniquet; otherwise he was likely to bleed out. Fast too, because he was starting to wake up she saw.

Not completely, the concussion had been too sudden for that but he was starting to move slightly. She couldn't have that; he might fall off of the table. But she only had one extra set of hands here, the kid to thank. She saw a belt hanging off of a chair across from her and grabbed it, just the thing she needed to tie a tourniquet off. It would be really nice if she had alcohol as well to clean this wound more but this looked to be as good as it was going to get until the barman returned. She grabbed some of the longest strips of pant leg that had fallen onto the chair, and brought it again to Marty's leg. Right there, two to three inches above the wound itself.

Carter tied them tight, turning her head to face the kid. Still pale and scared as hell, he was standing there like a man who had no idea what the hell to do. "Get over here and hold him steady!" She called out, realizing that she needed Marty to be still, or as much as they could get him while she put the damn thing on. She motioned for him to get on the opposite side of the table and hold his leg and the body so that Marty couldn't move around too much. She could see the man already starting to groggily mutter things, a sign of a return to alertness perhaps? Anyway she knew from experience that he would probably freak the hell out when he awoke to see that he was bleeding. Hell, anyone would.

She slipped the other end of the belt around his leg, and grabbed it to make a simple loop. Then Dr. Carter pressed tightly on the rag bandage, so it wouldn't slip. She could feel the sweat running down her face, her glasses fogging up under stress as usually happened in times like this. She looked up at the kid then down at Marty again. Threading the belt quickly through the buckle she pulled it as far as it would go. She wasn't all that surprised in retrospect to see Marty immediately react with a howl of pain. Well if there was doubt about it before, he was definitely one hundred percent awake now.

He started to move, trying to get up. "You'll strain yourself," she said, brushing the bangs out of her glasses. "Don't let him get up yet," she said knowing that too much strain on the muscle could inflame the injury. She looked away, grabbing her medical bag and quickly rummaging through it. In the corner of her eye she could see him struggling with the kid, trying to sit up straight. Damn fool, yes he was…. She had it here somewhere didn't she…oh there it was, no it wasn't. The bag was a colossal mess; Carter didn't know how many times she'd sworn to get a new one.

She saw Marty getting up now, pushing the kid away, but still she couldn't do anything to stop it. She knew that sometimes when patients were in pain they reacted impulsively, and failed to think rationally. Now before he got off the table… actually he had one leg off already, and was trying to push himself off. Without the other man they'd never get him off the floor. There was no time literally, no time to be indecisive she knew then. Her hands closed on a syringe just as the man got up, arms heading out towards her. Ducking, she took hold of his shirtsleeve, pulling it almost to the elbow. Then she quickly bit the safety cap off of the syringe, and injected the full amount of morphine right into his arm.

Well that might've been too much, the dosage called for it to be administered slowly, and in carefully measured amounts. But it seemed to have an immediate effect, as she felt Marty's body slump away from her, falling backwards. Luckily the kid caught him, and together they were able to maneuver the man back onto the table. That was a relief, she thought to herself, shaking her head. For a second there she hadn't been sure how it was going to go but… The dosage for everybody was different, but this would likely keep him sedated for several hours, or long enough for her to actually get some real treatment for the man. Because looking at the wound again, she knew that they had only just barely managed to staunch the wound; this was only a temporary solution at best.

Turning to the kid again she sighed. "I need you to go back down in the village, and get my jeep." She felt in her pockets fast, realizing with a pang that she must've left it in the tent in the confusion of the evacuation. "Well the keys should be right in the car under the seat." She knew that they needed to get Marty to a hospital, and right now she figured that her jeep would be the only way to get that done. She watched the kid nod to show he understood and begin to leave. "If you see Jophrey while you're down here tell him to hurry up." It had been at least ten minutes since the barman had left, he should be back by now.

As the door slammed, Dr. Roberta Carter ran her fingers through her hair and began to nervously nibble the fingers of her right hand. She was over her head here and she knew it. The injured man on the table…mercenaries with guns… and a huge prehistoric monster running amok outside… she wondered how she had managed to remain so calm and collected.

Act like I know what I'm doing, she thought. Trust me, I'm a doctor.


	13. Black Noise

The rain had dissipated somewhat by this time, although there were muddy piles everywhere. Their distribution was somewhat patchy; although Baxter found that by the time he was down the hill his shoes were damn soggy and grime-covered. He reasoned that he would have to get some new ones after this was all over. The wind was a bit chilly in the absence of rain, and it sent goose bumps down his arms. The tent was within sight, just as he remembered it.

He rubbed his hands as he tried to shake off the cold. Shaun Baxter wished he were inside right now, anywhere but out here. The trees swayed in the breeze, leaves still dripping with the product of the rains. It was a goddamn nightmare hiding somewhere in there he thought to himself. Shaking his head, he tried to put it out of his mind, but wasn't very successful. His hands were shaking, even as he rubbed them. It would be all right; it would be all right.

Leave it to the professionals; they knew what they were doing. The problem would take care of itself, and they could all leave. As long as they knew and followed the rules of the show, everybody could go their own way. He felt a grin creep over his face, as he took a short breath. His compensation was in the bag for now; he'd see what he could work out with James for the rest of them. It was really too bad about Marty, but in a way, Baxter was silently envious of him. The amount paid to keep him silent would surely be a substantial amount… the man would probably never have to work a day in his life.

There it was…the jeep. It was one of the more dated models though it should still work. The paint was chipped along the side, and he could tell that at one time it had been yellow. Faded now, with dirt flecking all around the sides. It was a rental, and peeking inside he could see that there was easily over fifty thousand miles on that odometer. Some damn fool hadn't adjusted the top covering correctly and so there was a large partition to the side where it had formerly been lopsided. The wind had blown that part even further up, and the entirety of the front and passenger seats were absolutely drenched. The windshield was slightly cracked across the center, and he could see where it had fogged up in the night.

He tried the door, relaxing a bit when he realized it was unlocked. If he had looked down he would've seen the barman's footprints still fresh, almost where he'd been standing. As it was the delayed progress of the other man didn't even register on his thought processes to the slightest degree. He immediately looked where the lady doctor had said. Under the seat. So he looked first under the driver's seat, nothing. Wait. There was a tray of sorts, with a removable lid. He gently took the tray, and in the light he could see the lid was open. Shaking it upside down into his palm he was surprised to not hear the familiar jingle and rattle of keys. In fact, when he ripped the lid of entirely he saw there were none in here at all.

Well that sucked to the ninth degree, he thought bitterly as he threw the empty package onto the seat. Turning around again, Baxter looked under the remaining seats, starting with the front passenger seat. Hell he even looked in the glove compartment. No dice. He was starting to think that the barman had taken it if anything. Where would he have gone of course was the main question. He admitted that it was not immediately in his power to answer that. For a graduate student, getting no answers immediately was one of the most frustrating things possible.

There was no smell of alcohol in the vehicle, meaning the man hadn't gone to the bar first. So maybe he'd taken the keys then to the bar after? It didn't really make sense he thought to himself. The mud seemed somehow slipperier as he backed away and shut the door. Mainly because he was retracing the steps he'd already walked, and erasing those of the barman. But when he looked to his right, he saw the bar. The door was open, though no lights were on in the building. He couldn't see anything and that should've bothered him though it didn't really. The man probably knew the inside of that by memory by now. Well maybe he needed some help in there.

It had been ten minutes by his reckoning that the barman had been gone. Maybe he'd better go check just to be sure. There was always the possibility of hotwiring the car, but right now that wasn't such a good idea. With the roof the way it was… another rain would cause it to short out in no time. No…he needed the keys to get anywhere and without it the entire jeep was a five-ton waste of space. Reluctantly Baxter turned away from the jeep, noticing the trail of footprints leading to the bar. None leading out, meaning the bastard was probably still in there. Couldn't entirely blame him though, a sight like today would drive even the most abstinent man to drink.

As he walked towards the bar, he couldn't help but notice a slight hum in the air. Was there thunder rolling somewhere? Or was it that monster, still rampaging somewhere in the jungle. It sounded far away though, so he soon turned his attention elsewhere. As long as it wasn't close he didn't need to pay that much attention to it. Baxter craned his neck into the open door, feeling a pale breeze. That was strange, or so he thought for a couple of minutes before he noticed the back door was open. Maybe someone had forgotten to close it? Perhaps. Well it wasn't like someone was going to come in and steal all of the liquor anytime soon were they? There was no sign of the barman, though there was a still and eerie silence around the whole interior of the bar. Kind of creepy actually, even more so since the light from the doors seemed to fade out and die less then five steps in.

He knew that in a place like this the light switch would probably be on the underside of that wooden bar at the far end. "Anybody in here?" he called out, giving the man a chance to come out and save him the trouble of dragging his ass from a bottle. He wanted to be quick about this, after all Dr. Guitierrez could be an asshole sometimes, but it wasn't like he wanted him to die either. No answer, nor any sign of movement. The back door seemed to move slightly, though there was no breeze. He realized that he couldn't see the bottom half of the back door, maybe the man was leaning against it and drinking.

That fool…he thought to himself as he took a step in, still holding the doorknob. He heard what sounded like a bird chirping, a very small bird. Strange he thought, even as the humming sound was louder, like it was coming closer. He looked to his right, realizing he could see the service road that served as the entrance to the village. He realized that sound was very familiar almost like… an engine. He suddenly perked up immediately, realizing that if someone were coming then they wouldn't need the jeep at all.

As he looked back, he realized that the back door had now shut. That was strange; he hadn't felt a breeze at all. The chirps were closer now, some kind of jungle bird? Baxter had no idea; he'd come here to study lizards not freaking birds. "Get your drunken ass out of there, I think someone's coming!" He was met again with utter and abject silence. It was like it was mocking him. Well if he had to drag that asshole out from there he would. He let go of the door, grabbing a chair closest to him to prop it up. He didn't feel much like letting it slam behind him, and leaving him all alone in the darkness.

He wished he had the flashlight now, or at least a cigarette lighter. He could hear the engine puttering somewhere closer; it was probably entering the village by now. All well and good, but without some alcohol, he knew that the injured man's wound might get infected. He could see the glint of bottles reflecting against the light. Any would do, as long as it wasn't the hard stuff he figured. He walked slowly, trying not to trip over any tables or chairs in the darkness. He vaguely remembered that the bar had only barely just opened when the helicopter had come in that morning. That meant some patrons might have had a chance to stop by.

Sure enough he turned and saw a glint next to him. Grabbing the bottle, he shook it once. Yes there was that telltale slosh indicating that there was liquid inside. He thought he was quite ready to leave now, meet whoever had arrived. He turned around, but as he did he frowned. He should've been able to see the barman he realized, now that he was halfway in the bar. Baxter didn't like it, and a thought formed in his head. Maybe the man wasn't here at all? There was always the possibility that he'd just gone out the back door to go home, to get what he didn't know. Or care for that matter.

He started to walk out, but froze. He could hear it behind him, the chirping sound. Was it anything really to get worked up about? He doubted that very much, just shrugged and shook his head. He was imagining things, probably a result of getting all worked up over the recent events. He swished the bottle around, trying to see the label in the dim light. Maybe a sip or two just to clear his head, Florence Nightingale back there didn't need all of it now did she? A clear look at the label indicated it was Single Malt Whiskey, strong stuff, almost a tonic in some countries. Cleared your head right up, probably felt like acid on an open wound.

As he lifted the bottle, he felt something rub against his leg. That was odd, the chirping sound was closer now, like it was right next to him. Chickens didn't chirp, at least to the best of his knowledge. Very odd indeed, and he couldn't recall ever having seen a single chicken in this place. Maybe he should drink this outside; yes that was probably the best idea after all. He took a step then stopped, he'd been so certain he heard something behind him. He was no longer sure that it was his imagination after all, not sure at all.

Baxter took another step, and this time it was unmistakable, something not just rubbing against his leg, but also nipping at his heels. He swiftly turned around and kicked out sharply and blindly in the dark. There was a sharp squeal, and he felt a chair clatter to the floor in the darkness, like something crashed against it. That wasn't right was it? He backed away, realizing he was almost at the door. Thankfully he had the doorknob firmly in his hand once again, he could see the light. There was a scuffling sound somewhere in the gloom.

It was getting to its feet, whatever it was. He had a feeling that maybe he should be thinking about closing the door, except that his feet were frozen to the floor. He had an insane desire to see what it was, tell himself it was just some chicken that had wandered in the back. He couldn't quite explain that momentary paralysis, but felt his fist clench tighter on the neck of the bottle. His head was clear now, he realized, the whiskey was having its intended effect. There was no danger here, just his fevered imagination acting on itself. He would prove it; there was nothing, nothing, and nothing at all. He raised his arm, like he was pitching a baseball, but he wasn't expecting it to be caught by anything.

"Eat shit and die!", he yelled without really thinking.

The bottle said from his hand, seconds before he heard the chirp again, clear as day. His back to the free air, he heard the crash, the sound of glass breaking somewhere inside. The squeal, and the muted but very audible thud that followed. The sound of something jumping out of the way, turning and making a dash for the door. This time there was no hesitation on Baxter's part at all. He stepped backwards, pulling the door along with him. It slammed shut, seemingly shaking the whole bar with it as well. No shit Sherlock, that was close whatever it was. For second there it had seemed…

Just to be sure he tried the knob. Keyhole on the outside, thank god it locked from the outside. Turning away he figured to himself that there were other houses in this village. Probably at least one of them had brought a bottle home at some point; it was a pretty good chance he figured. As long as he didn't have to go back in there, although he couldn't quite explain his reluctance. Everything in him was telling him it was supremely irrational to react in this way, but all the same. Ed James could've offered him the money over again just to open that door but he didn't really know if he would take it. Turning away, he found himself taking long and deliberate breaths, he'd a bad scare, that was all and the only person who could open the door for him was missing. That was too bad, nothing he could do about that now, nothing whatsoever.

But he heard the humming noise again, looking to his right to see a car slowing down as it approached the bar. Intrigued, Baxter stepped out from the shadow of the bar and called out. The car slowed down some more, finally parking about five or six feet from where he was standing. Pretty fancy actually, leaving Dr. Carter's jeep looking like a hunk of rusted junk next to it. Who the hell took a new model Hummer out into this jungle up in the mountains? Relatively clean too, barely even any dirt on the windshield. He scratched the back of his neck as the driver's side opened, and a man got out.

Baxter frowned; it was the last thing he'd been expecting at all. No fatigues or camo for this man, not at all. He wore a beige vest, a tie framing the dress shirt underneath. He was wearing jeans, which seemed so incongruous in comparison to the rest of his garb. The whole of his garb bespoke a man who'd gotten ready in quite a hurry. His hair was disheveled and unkempt, and his eyes were bloodshot. The man stepped out of the hummer; no staggered was more the word to be perfectly honest. Staggered out of that hummer and slammed the door.

Baxter was not sure what to make of this apparition, and for a second he forgot the thing in the bar. "Long drive?" he said, surprised that was the first thing to come out of his mouth. He just didn't know what to say at all, well here was at least one of his problems solved right now… He looked up again as the man slowly walked towards him, around the car and staring him in the eye. There was a sense upon looking into those eyes, which there was not that much he hadn't seen.

The man spoke, his voice breaking the silence like a gunshot. "My name's Richard Levine, do you know if there is a Dr. Guitierrez in this village?"

Somewhere in the distance, he heard the rain begin to resume.


	14. The Hunt

This damn jungle was suffocating him on all sides, which was a shame really. It shouldn't be that hard to track down something that big, not at all. He could hear the sound of it moving in the underbush, the crackling of leaves and branches as its huge hulking mass slid through the jungle somewhere in front of him. But he couldn't see it at all, not one bit. Ed James wiped the sweat off his brow, as he stared out again into the jungle, trying to even see something, anything in this shitty mess. On top of that it was raining, messing up his vision even further.

He checked his weapon, making sure that the magazine was clicked securely in place. James was confident that he had enough rounds for the purpose, but one could never be sure. Back in Cupertino, they had guaranteed that the dosage would be enough to bring even a rhino down. Dead in its tracks within a minute and a half. So much for that, he thought to himself, thinking about how that dinosaur got lit up like a pincushion and still kept on going. But had they done those damn lizard trials? He'd sworn over and over to tell the lab to get started on the damn lizard trials. Some legal thing, PETA getting all upset over alligators now. Utter shit.

James thought to himself that even if their equipment weren't worth three buckets of piss, at least they had enough of it. Looking to his left and right, he nodded to his fellow companions, gesturing to them to continue following the path. Even if this jungle was thicker then he'd expected, something that big would have to leave signs, something to follow after all. They were barely half a minute behind it when the chase had begun, and now he wasn't sure that lead even existed anymore. But he would continue what he had begun, because it was his mission, the ultimate goal that had been unrealized for over ten years.

The mission of Biosyn incorporated actually, to obtain a fantastic revolution that had once upon a time, been brought to conception by INGEN. Twice they had tried, third time was the charm, yes indeed. The mistake the other times had been to try to get them directly from the source, the mouth of the river so to speak. That had been the error, putting themselves in those situations. Even Dodgson himself had made that mistake, and the company as a whole had paid the price for that. Even Rossiter himself had been forced to admit Dodgson had been telling the truth, when his right hand man had never returned.

But here they would change that, reverse the trend and bring Biosyn right into the spotlight of the world. If they could just find the damn thing. James was a very patient man, but part of him worried, it worried a LOT. What had gone wrong? It should've been over quickly, prize in hand and the witnesses paid off. Because what was money going to be once they had the gold? That would mean a nice bonus to him, a prospect he was looking forward to very much. Rossiter would be sure to promote him, maybe even give him a board seat. That would be nice, capping off his rise from a meager espionage agent into one of the chairmen of the entire company. But that would only happen if they succeeded. He was close now, he would not go home empty handed, he swore it on his life, and those of his fellow agents.

"See anything?" he asked the man on his right, who was walking with a high-powered tranquilizer rifle. Many times stronger then the automatic one James was carrying, flip side of that of course he couldn't shoot that many rounds. So his position was to be a point man, take the animal down while it was distracted. James smiled to himself; he had chosen well he thought. Of all the Biosyn agents he had chosen for his possible team, Fred Jefferson fit the bill just nicely. A man who could concentrate on the task at hand, and not blink, no matter what was facing him.

He observed the way the man just walked through the brush without skipping a beat, any sweat or fear on his face. Either acute bravery, or he was as dumb as a sack of bricks. Either way, he would serve the purpose just fine. Jefferson had been Biosyn's replacement for Baselton, since their previous PR man had disappeared at the same time as Dodgson. He'd faced that monster in the barn with all of the same stoic indifference that he presented to even the most incongruous press rabble. A good man for the job, and a dedicated one, James couldn't have done better.

"Not yet," the man said in a flat and indifferent voice, completely toneless. James noticed with a smirk that the man's eyes never once diverted to his direction, even when asked a question. "Keep your eyes open," he said to all of them in particular, swallowing. "The animal could be right next to us and we wouldn't even see it." He couldn't see it, but he could still hear it. They all could, how could anyone possibly miss that? The crunch of the leaves, the cracking of branches as something large passed, no barreled past. That led quickness to their step that he was feeling, now more then ever it seemed. His heart was pounding in his chest, as the three of them moved ever deeper into the foliage. He was still unsure of exactly how close they were to it, or even how far they had gone from the village. It seemed like hours, though he knew in all liklihood it had only been a half hour, an hour at most.

He turned to his left, watching the woman in the camo gear. Silently he wondered if it had been a mistake to bring her along. He could see her, quivering all over. She'd been fine before she went in the barn, smelled the stench of carrion and blood all over the floor. James had tried not to look, Fred hadn't been bothered at all…but for Megan it had caused her to lose her cool. He had wondered for a second back there if she was going to lose it in front of the witnesses. That might have been bad, make their disguises lack credibility. That was the last thing he needed, especially right here in this damn jungle, miles from the nearest city.

Bringing women into this had been a mistake, he'd tried to tell Rossiter, but the man wouldn't listen. Just told him that if anything big was going on in Biosyn she had to be included. Of course, pretty much everyone in the company interpreted that as she was sleeping with the boss. Or Rossiter's personal secretary/internal spy. Or both. Either way, Ed James wasn't that comfortable having her along, even though he barely knew her before now. Though he did think he knew pretty much all he needed to know. He had no time personally for people like that, who showed the slightest sign of not being fully committed. He scowled at her, not exactly sure what to say, maybe better not to say anything at all.

He tried to focus back on the jungle, looking into the foliage around him. He was no longer sure where exactly they were. There certainly wasn't a trail behind them, at least not one he could make out. Were they lost? That was one thing he certainly did not want to bring up to either of his companions, and especially not himself. No they weren't lost, it was just a matter of retracing their steps that was all. He patted the GPS tracker attached to his belt. As long as they had this they could get back anytime they wanted too, quite simple really. He just needed to make a call, on the sat phone Jefferson had, and the helicopter would be ready to pick them up whenever. It was important not to put too much stock in one person, spread it all out.

Was it just him or were the trees thinning out a bit? The rain was still driving as relentlessly as ever, but he could see a bit more in the jungle he was noticing. Hopefully that signified they were going to some open spot, though only time would tell. His grip on his weapon tightened, eyes scanning the ground and ahead of him constantly. There was sweat running down his forehead and face, but it was mixing with the raindrops so that should be okay for now as well. He could hear the thundering footfalls, they all could. Louder now, but the direction was still unclear. He realized that the animal could be going in circles around them and they wouldn't have a damn clue.

Not exactly a comforting thought, and that was exactly why he wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. Now if only- he thought he saw a break in the trees up ahead, branches broken right above his head in what was a tell-tale sign. It had passes through here, not that long ago. "Check your weapons," James said matter-of factly the others, as they went in, Jefferson leading the way. They all followed shortly, entering into a small forest glade. Barely five- by- five feet it was one of those little gaps in the jungle you wouldn't even notice from the air. No grass grew on the floor, the foliage of the jungle was too close for that, too overgrown. But there was light here, what passed for light amongst the pale gloom in the morning rain anyway.

Not that they were paying that much attention to the sights though, there was a strong stench around, like carrion. It wafted into your nostrils and into your sinuses. Drifting up into your olfactory senses and it was like you had been born with the smell and would never be rid of it because it was also a part of you. And your eyes watered and your nose itched and your mouth ran dry, because you desperately wanted to be rid of it but you know that was impossible. The smell was all around them, and it was evident why, very much so. The reason none of them was standing in the glade proper, but just around it sort of, hugging the fringes almost wanting to escape into the woods.

The carcass on the jungle floor had been there maybe minutes, if not less so. Yet it looked as if it had been torn apart by a pack of wild dogs. Well it was about the correct size, James thought to himself as he nudged it a bit with his foot. To his left he could see Megan looking a bit green, trying to look anywhere but at them or the floor. To his right, Jefferson was already aiming with the rifle, trying to ascertain the safety of the area. There was something odd, James thought as he noticed the glint of the light on the animal's skin. Almost unrecognizable the way it had been torn up, but there were still a few bits of skin left. Feeling a loose fragment of skin in his hands, he watched almost absently as the blood rolled down his arm as he held it up to the light. He felt goosebumps down the back of his neck and it was like a fly caught in his throat. Could it be? So soon?

Ed James had sort of expected this, what with the constant rumours flying out of Costa Rica. In fact, it was the main reason why he'd paid Baxter the money upfront; to tip him off if something like this was found. Well dead it was no use to him, but something out there was very much alive. In this dim light, he turned it over, his fingers feeling the unmistakable pebbled texture of the skin, the green and brown colors fading away upon death. He let it fall from his hand as he stood up, frowning now. There was something else wrong, he realized, very, very wrong.

For one, the pattern of the kill wasn't right, short broad slashes all over the carcass. Not something a giant carnivore like the other dinosaur would've been capable of. Not in the slightest, and he knew that anything less would merely be lying to himself. The stench was also wrong he realized, something dead for barely minutes shouldn't smell this gawdawful. This kill had preceded them for hours, if not an entire day. James backed up, shaking his head and looking at the others, at a loss for words. He felt like he was forgetting something, something important and basic…something like.

He realized what it was. A large dinosaur like that and it had not killed all three of them the minute it had broken out of the barn. He knew from overseeing Biosyn's animal research that reptiles had unusually acute sense of smell. That made sense, why go to all the trouble of hunting down your own prey… when you could take over from someone else? Of course that made sense, but then there was an even more obvious question… the dinosaur had just barreled down here in pretty much a direct line right to the glade. Why had it just bypasses it? He looked around quickly, lifting his weapon slowly. Because maybe it never meant to bypass the carcass at all, he thought with a frightening suddenness. The rain wasn't pouring down hard enough to disguise the amount of sweat running down his face, down his hands and his brow.

Why hadn't it gone directly for the kill? He asked himself again. There seemed to be only one explanation for it, one that made any sense at all. It had circled around, checking the area to see if whoever had made the kill was still around. Only then would the animal perceive the carcass as safe to feed upon for fear of interruption. But that meant if it didn't detect anything, the dinosaur would circle back, because the kill would be safe, become part of it's territory- His thoughts were interrupted by a scream, and looking to the side he could see Megan's face was pale and ashen, and she was screaming like a banshee.

James was going to have come up with some snappy remark, maybe reprimand her, but then he turned his head to see what she was so scared of. In that moment, he noticed the light in the glade began to dilute ever so slightly. The north side, directly opposite from them, that was where the light was coming in. But now it was refracted, almost transculent in its vibrancy. And even now as Ed James squinted he could see the rain giving away the form of some large shape. Blended perfectly with the trees, making a perfect mockery of their camouflage outfits, Mother Nature always did it better. He realized he couldn't speak for a second, before the light bent again, and he realized it was moving. Oh god… It's head was now in view and he could see those two terrible horns again in the profile.

The second time now something that big and he hadn't seen it. His gun felt absurdly small and useless in his hands as he lifted it but felt all the strength go out of his arm. He heard a scuffling noise to the side, and he didn't even have to turn his head to see what he knew. The bitch had lost all nerve and ran blindly back through the jungle. Well he could stand his ground here, he thought to himself. He nodded to Jefferson, gesturing to him to aim that rifle, aim it high. He found himself backing up again, bumping into the other man as the creature's profile became increasingly more visible.

The animal roared, taking a huge step towards him. James heard a shot, and the rifle bucked once, the recoil sending the gun coming down hard on his shoulder. Damn that hurt he thought to himself, but he quickly forgot his minor pain. The dinosaur was shaking its head, and as it turned, James could see the dart in the side. Now they got it, he thought to himself. Now they got it…. He lifted his own weapon in turn, pulling back the safety and ready to shoot more of the lesser tranquilizers into the thing. He did so, watching the animal attempt to bite the needle in its side. _Hasta la vista_, he thought as he pressed down on the trigger.

_Click. _The sound seemed so loud in the jungle, as James hurriedly tried to fix it. Stupid piece of shit, he should've been more skeptical when the engineers had presented him with an automatic tranquilizer. But there was really no room to curse it now. Because he could see the other needle in the animals mouth. It had ripped it out of its side, and was now spitting it on the ground. It took a step, and roared, right in his face. That of course was when James lost all nerve and turned away. Pushing Jefferson to the side he didn't even look to see if the man had started to run away. Maybe he had maybe he hadn't His loss if he didn't. Looking back, he could see the creature taking another step, its full bulk filling at least half the glade.

He broke into a run, dropping the gun as he ran. He could hear footfalls behind him, most likely Jefferson deciding to follow his lead. No, the smell behind him was of carrion and rotting flesh, it could only be one thing. Twigs snapped and branches broke as fear gave legs to Ed James. He ran and ran until he lost all sense of shape or time. There was only the breaking of branches and the snap of twigs. Just keep running he told himself that was the only way to stay alive. If he stopped, if he slowed down for even one second he knew he was dead, worse then dead. Lost forever in this forest.

And he knew his plan was crumbling apart at the seams, unraveled at record pace. From supreme confidence one second, to running for his very life the next.


	15. Singularity

Richard Levine only went back to the jeep once, to get a bottle of water. He paused a bit leaning over the front seat, biting his lip and frowning. Something didn't seem right, he felt. Maybe it was just a gut feeling or whatever, but something was really off. Shrugging, he took a power bar out of his pocket, unwrapped it and took a bite. Taking a quick drink of water to gulp it down, he looked out his windshield at the kid standing out there. A bit shifty, he thought to himself, but otherwise looked just as vanilla as any ordinary twenty something you'd find out there in the states. If there was anything off about him, Levine thought he would know.

Wrapping up the candybar wrapper absentmindedly, Levine put it back in his pocket. Opening the door, he took out his water bottle with him, just in case he had to trek a bit. Walking toward the kid now, he nodded his head. "So you said Dr. Guitierrez is indeed here?" That seemed an obvious question since the kid had already said 'yes', but he thought it needed an answer regardless. Sort of strange how some random kid who was obviously a graduate student would be wandering about by himself in a remote Costa Rican Village.

"Yes…" the kid looked down, and slightly to the side. He seemed very uncomfortable, almost pale even. Levine couldn't quite figure out why, but he figured he was going to find out. "You see…he's not exactly available right now and…" The kid took a breath, scratching the back of his neck. Was he nervous about something? It was hard to tell, especially now.

"Do you know where he is then?" Levine wasn't exactly making eye contact; he only did that for people he knew were being honest with him. Which was exactly why the board always complained that he was 'unreadable' or some shit. Tough luck, he thought, it was just one of those things that always seemed to come up sooner or later. He knew this was where Marty must be…the GPS had traced him here. It didn't look like a very large village, so he figured Marty must be somewhere around here, it was just a question of where exactly.

"Look," The kid, said after a pause. "He was injured, though I can't really say more then that. Basically I need to get some…first aid stuff, but I think it might be in one of the houses around here." On the face of it, it seemed like a likely story, though maybe not holding up the best under further examination. Levine decided to let the kid go at that though. If he felt like telling the truth later, he was going to do so anyway. In the meantime, Levine would get to the bottom of this all sooner or later. He preferred sooner, as a mater of course.

"Just take me along for the ride," he said, his upper lip curling as he pressed down his vest. Too hurried for a day's work he thought, way too damn hurried. That was what you got for hopping on a plane before the board could figure out that you weren't going to make the meeting after all. The flipside of course was that he hadn't had a full night's sleep since then, not even on the plane. He'd been too much on edge, the image of that grainy cell phone picture burned in his mind. This kid wasn't doing much to relieve his unease, probably worsening it as a matter of fact.

"Whatever," the kid said, and it almost sounded resentful. "Go and follow me if you want, notice I didn't ask you what the hell you were doing here." Levine squinted at Baxter, wondering how many years ago this little shit had lost all respect for authority. Well, he thought_ its Marty's student not mine,_ glad he's not my responsibility, seemed like a pain in the ass so far. Well that was just his first impression; he decided he would wait until at least an hour before making up his mind, though he doubted it would change anytime soon. So he just nodded, and followed behind as the kid started walking.

In the distance he heard it begin to rain, meaning they only had a couple minutes before the storm front brought the rain over here. He could see it had rained not that long ago; large stretches of the dirt clearings were still muddy. Here and there were pools were the water had settled into depressions deep enough that they wouldn't run off right away. He made a mental note not to drive his hummer into any of those, might short the damn transmission. Well you learned from the past, and he'd not been so damn foolish as to come here unprepared, not so foolish. He noticed that they seemed to be heading in a northerly direction; they were already past the bar he figured.

He wasn't exactly sure where the kid thought he was going but he figured he was just going to let him lead the way. Wondered vaguely why Marty needed a medical kit that bad, probably scraped his knee or some shit. At least he hoped so, the village seemed awfully quiet like everyone just got up and left. That was really suspicious in itself, and to be perfectly honest he felt the silence unnerving. The trees swayed in the wind, seeming to mock all mankind. He shivered, noticing a huge pile of trash behind the bar as they passed by it. It smelled god-awful, even with that small patch of trees right next to it to even out the smell.

Had something died in there? He didn't really know or care because he saw the row of houses they were approaching. Not bad, he thought to himself, for a hick village in the middle of nowhere. There didn't seem to be any people around this side either, even though there were four or five houses in a row here. Right up against the treeline, he noticed almost as an afterthought. Really not that close but still…. He narrowed his eyes as he looked down at the ground again. They seemed to be following a trail of prints in this mud, really faint as to be discernable but unmistakably there. They led out to one of the houses, which one he couldn't tell just yet.

But it had to be where the kid was getting his sense of direction from. Levine didn't really have a whole lot to say to him, even as they approached the house at the far side of the block. Immediately Levine's eyebrow arched once again, and he gave the kid a quizzical look. The door was open, and in the dim light within, he could see muddy footprints trailing off. Pretty unexpected, but hey Levine wasn't running this show right now. Clearly they were following someone, and right now Levine just needed some more answers. Not now exactly, but eventually seemed like a nice, reasonable goal to shoot for. Though maybe Marty could find a Graduate student just a bit more talkative as well….

They entered in solemn silence, or was it awkwardness? Levine didn't really have anything to say to the kid so he set his water bottle on the table next to the door. Taking his power bar out, he heard the kid immediately head to the kitchen area. Well sort of, it was combined with the living room space as well. It seemed like he was rather busy after all, and there was a draft anyway. Probably the kid wouldn't mind at all, if he… Levine reached over and closed the door behind him. Better, he thought, a thought striking him. The muddy footprints on the ground didn't match up to the area the kid was searching. Not exactly saying a lot, but enough to make someone stop and think.

Levine took the PowerBar out of his pocket, unwrapping it and taking another bite. He took a few steps, looking back in the kitchen to check. The kid didn't seem all that interested in him; care much for that matter. He shrugged, the feeling was getting to be mutual about this time, he thought to himself. There were the prints, time to see where those led while he was at it. So he turned around, noticing that the trail led down the hall to the right. He walked slowly, taking a few bites out of his power bar every now and then. The noise from the kitchen was quite a ruckus, but as you got further down the hall it wasn't that bad. Not at all, to be honest. It wasn't a long hallway, he was through it in less then a minute to be exact, but he saw where the tracks ended. Oh yes he did. It was only then that a couple of other details became apparent to him, almost at the same time, really.

One. The tracks were somewhat fresh. Levine was no expert in this matter, but he deduced that they must be at least somewhere from twenty to thirty minutes old. Maybe sooner, but it didn't make sense, not in the way that he was hoping. If the kid had been following a trail over here, the man who first went to get the first aid kit or whatever should've been back by then. The village wasn't really that big, but that was just his first general impressions. Something had distracted the man, from whatever purpose he might have originally had.

Two. The back door was open, swinging in the breeze. As Levine drew closer he could see the footprints disappearing out into the dirt beyond. He went to shut the door, but paused in the doorway, wondering why he did so. There was absolutely no reason for the man to have used the back door, or as far as he knew. Looking out on the dirt, he saw the prints only continued for a bit. Right up to the tree line, which wasn't really that far as he could see. In fact, it was probably less then seven or ten feet to the trees. For whatever reason, the prints stopped halfway there. He leaned forward, trying to see better. The light was okay, but the clouds were still overhead, giving everything sort of a dull luster.

Richard Levine blinked, just to make sure he was seeing this right. Where the footprints stopped there seemed to be a sort of depression. No that wasn't exactly describing it either, not in the least. It was really strange because the area right in front of it was all worked up, almost as if… He was straining to remember, because it had been so long really, if you could call five years all that long of a time. But it matched the characteristics of everything. He took a deep breath, running his hand through his hair. He realized he knew why the mud was all worked up and flattened. It was very simple, the explanation out in front of him. Then something else drifted into his mind, something from equally long ago.

The mud was flattened…drag marks he thought to himself. What was that Grant had said back at that conference in Peking? Not the first time, the second time he'd managed to catch him, this time with Malcom in tow so the man couldn't deny everything. Oh yes… _not from the front…._ Levine felt his grip on the doorknob tighten as he took a half step back. His sweat was rolling down his face, and somewhere he heard thunder rolling. He heard a low whistle, and took that as his cue.

He drew back a breath, and stepped back quickly, slamming the door after him. It made the house shake, but Levine didn't care. He dropped his powerbar on the ground, and reached for the bolt on the latch. Not a moment too soon, it seemed, for suddenly he heard a thump outside. Right where he'd been standing not a second before. He thrust the bolt back, hearing that click on the latch. Grants words coming back again… as he stepped back, not daring to breath. _But from the side…._ He backed up slowly, eyes still on the door. From what he could hear the kid was still in the kitchen, maybe he could just give him a heads up here.

He could see the kid stepping into the hall in the corner of his eye as he looked back. "The hell you doing old man?" What a disrespectful punk, Levine thought to himself, they weren't even that much separated, perhaps ten, twelve years at most he was guessing. Levine was about to ask him to shut the hell up, even though he was still unsure what the situation was exactly. However he paused as he heard a sound unnerved the hell out of him. Like something trying to break the door down. Looking at the kid he could see his eyes widening, and his face going pale. Yeah, now you're going show some respect kid, he thought.

It came again, and this time it was clear what it was. Some large force was banging against the back door, as if trying to shove it by force. But Levine had locked that sucker tight, there was no opening it that way and the door was solid. He took a step forward, hesitantly. Yes, there was no way anybody-or anything was going to get in. He didn't know who was, but he figured it to be some crazy lunatic. After all, this was just a normal village in the middle of nowhere right? At least he thought so, but that image of the cell phone picture was still very much burned into his brain…

Then there was silence, whoever, or whatever it was didn't try for a third time. Levine wasn't sure if that meant they were gone or… He realized something else, something he'd discussed many times before. Pushing the kid roughly to the side, he ducked into the bedroom, noticing with relief that the window there wasn't big enough to break through. However, he noticed a shadow fell across the room, as something broke through the light. There it was, only barely just as a flicker in the side. A trick of the light or…He felt a pressure behind him, turning his head realized it was the kid trying to see in. See what the old man's worked up about.

When he turned his head back of course it was gone. "Hell," he muttered under his breath as he pushed his way back into the hall. Was it just a trick of the light? His fevered brain working too hard in the past twenty-odd hours? He definitely hadn't gotten enough sleep that was for damn sure. That was definitely something to consider, and he couldn't exactly discount that possibility entirely. Taking a step forward, he froze again, feeling unable to swallow. The back door was locked right? Yes, he'd checked that for himself, there was no doubt about that, not at all. It came back to him, what he'd been thinking before.

Misdirection. Oh god, that was what it was. The front door he'd just slammed it behind him, without even a look back. He felt the goosebumps rise on the back of his neck as the doorknob was turning slowly. He could even now hear the scrape of metal against claws….


	16. Synchronization

Fred Jefferson was never quite sure what had happened next. He didn't blink or move a muscle when the dinosaur revealed itself out of the bushes. Nor had he even so much turned his head when the bitch ran off screaming into the woods. His boss turning chicken and leaving him out to dry was unexpected, but not enough to make him lose concentration. He kept his weapon trained on the beast, waiting until the right moment. He was watching the animal intently, waiting to see what it would do. He stepped off to the side, eyes never leaving the beast.

It turned its head, stared right at him. Jefferson stared right back, his mouth drawn into a hard line. There was a long pause, the two of them sizing each other up. The dinosaur's breath was foul and rank, of carrion and dead flesh. It took a step forward, and from the side, he could see its bulk in a way he hadn't noticed before. Jefferson slowly undid the latch on his gun, reloading it for another shot. But as he did so, the animal lifted its head, jaw opened wide. It roared, not ear-splittingly loud… just a raw deep growl that echoed around the glade. It traveled through the forest, the call of one hunter to another. A challenge…

Jefferson realized then why it had made no move towards the carcass. Something trapped in a barn all its life. I_t doesn't want to be fed; it wants to hunt._ Realizing this, he stepped back some more, careful not to turn his back. His hunch was proven right in a second, as it stepped over the carcass, its head going back in the direction that James had run. Sniffing the air, it took another step, and Jefferson took a rare breath. As the huge animal entered the foliage, he could see its color changing, matching the surroundings almost like a Chameleon. It moved so stealthily, for something that size…

And almost as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Right after James he figured, damn fool made himself a target by running. If that animal chased him down it was his own bloody fault. He waited a minute or two, just to see if the animal would come back. It was only after hearing the snaps and crackling of the branches did he allow himself to lower his gun. Now he could finally focus on other things…important things such as how to get the hell back to the camp. He had the satellite phone on him, but needed a bigger clearing then this to get a good signal. He turned around, taking the phone out and checking the dial. Yes, definitely needed a larger opening here.

He wouldn't relax, not until he'd gotten into a building back in the village and locked the door behind him. The carcass on the jungle floor had been subtle proof of that; he was not alone in this jungle. But whatever had killed it had probably been scared away by the other dinosaur. A top predator like that…could sense other predators a mile away. He shook his head, grinning very faintly as he made his way through the brush. James could go back the hard way, even with his thousand-dollar gadget. He'd been probably the only one paying attention on their way here, mentally recording each twist and turn as they had originally pursued the beast.

To hell with that, he knew what he was going to tell them when he made that call. They needed more men; three wasn't going to be enough to stop that thing. It was just an animal but also…. Something more then that. The product of sixty-five million years of pent up rage and aggravation. It had already been demonstrated that their arsenal was woefully ill equipped for it, as demonstrated how their bold 'hunting party' had already been split apart at the first sign of a confrontation. Probably a number around 5 or 10 people was more likely of an approximation in his opinion. He just needed to make that call though; he didn't think he was that far.

It seemed like it was, but Jefferson knew that was because of how winding the path here had been. He got a sense of their general direction, and if he could just follow that… He would be there in no time he was sure. Why already he was reading on familiar ground, that he'd covered on the way. He took out the phone, ducking under a tree branch as he did so. Just making sure it had enough battery; he clicked it on, hearing the static and crackle. Yes, because there wasn't enough reception here, the foliage was too damn thick. Looking up again, he was unable to duck as a branch whipped across his face.

Damn thing stung like hell, but barely broke skin. Sure his cheek was bleeding a bit but… Other then that he was fine. He shook his head, trying to wipe some of the blood off with his free hand. He wiped it down on his pants, not really paying any attention at all. That was because he could already see the light ahead of him. He was surprised that he'd apparently gotten through so soon. Yes, he was making brisk progress, much swifter then usual. Sure the foliage was thinning out a bit, it just meant that he was closer then he'd expected. Because he'd just taken the direct route instead of winding around like they had originally done.

He held his rifle up, cautiously keeping watch for anything unexpected. You never know when something could just appear at any second… But there was no noise at all from around him, the jungle was particularly silent, noticeably so in fact. Not a single chirp of birdsong or even so much as a cricket. He shook his head, trying to focus right now. He broke through the bushes, squinting a little as the sunlight shone brightly in his face. He stood stock-still, taking stock of his situation and where he was exactly. It wasn't exactly the same place, he realized immediately. For one thing, the hill leading up to the barn was directly to his right.

There was sort of a low fence, ringing the area he'd come out of. Also, as he made his way further out, he had to walk around some waist high stones. Tombstones. He was walking in a graveyard, where all bones of the past inhabitants were to rest in peace forever. He felt a strange feeling, not quite a shiver, but rather strangely cold. He could make the call here of course, but it didn't seem quite right. Besides, he could see the clouds starting to move in, he needed some sort of shelter if he was to make any sort of call. He would have to do it quick, before he got really drenched. Rossiter had been too damn cheap to get them waterproofed gear…

He looked around, stepping over the gate as he did so. Just looking for any solid building. There were a few tents to the south of him, but he didn't really want to take that chance. Who knew how many drops it took to short the phone? He certainly didn't want to be stuck out here without any means of communication or transportation. There were a few other buildings in the far distance, but none of them seemed all that secure. They had too many windows, no way of adequately checking all of the entrances or exits. He needed someplace he could make the call, and sit tight until reinforcements arrived.

A large building somewhere around the center of the village caught his eye. High windows, large, imposing frame… he'd noticed it while organizing the evacuation of the village earlier. It seemed like the idea place in which to make the call. He felt a tinge of rain on his shoulder, and the musty scent if the oncoming storm. He gripped his rifle in both hands, and started into a half run, his sweat streaming down his cheeks with his effort. His feet pounded the pavement, as he rain started behind him. There was no time to go around to the front; the back door to the bar was more accessible. He could see it easily now, impossible to miss really. There was a large clump of trees right behind the building, a unique feature in the village to be quite honest.

As he drew nearer, the first thing he noticed was that godawful smell. People just threw their trash right behind the bar? There was really no time to stop and see where it was coming from; the rain was too close for that. But it did really smell likes something had died here. No time for that, he thought…. as he quickly tried the doorknob. Open, thank god, he thought blankly as he stumbled inside. Just as it really began to come down out there. He stepped back a bit, and realized he was in pitch darkness. No way to see a damn thing in here, he realized after a second or two. That was all right, he just needed to stay near the door anyhow. Just make one simple call- two seconds really.

There was an overturned chair near the door, Jefferson leaned his rifle against the wall and used the chair to prop the door up. There, that would ensure enough light at least. He turned on the phone, his grin widening just a bit as the crackle and static slowly faded away. A green light near the top indicated that it was now ready to use, and thankfully, he knew the number by heart. He already knew what to say, a horrible, horrible accident yes. He felt the smooth wood of the bar as he leaned over, waiting for the tone to indicate that it was ready to talk. Causalities…two at least, maybe more. They had no chance really, we were underprepared.

All dead, no survivors. Yes, I checked. He turned his head, while waiting for the satphone to run down all its checks, and his eyes immediately caught the glisten of bottles. We'll toast them, James and the Bitch. We'll toast their memories. Even if they come back, we'll toast their memories. All dead. No survivors. We'll make sure of that, Jefferson alone gets the bonus. He grabbed a bottle with his free hand, popped the lid off. Slammed it down on the bar, and started searching for a shot glass. He was a bit caught up; he almost missed it when the phone began ringing. Right off, the echo a bit louder then he would've liked in this gloom. It caught in distant corners… bounced back over table edges. Slightly unnerving yes, but nothing to be worried about, not at the present moment at least. He turned around, trying to see the signal better in the gloom.

Something brushed by his leg, and instinctively, Jefferson kicked out at it. He heard a small thud to his right that made him pause for a moment before shaking his head. He must be very tired if he was starting to hear noises as well. He shook his head, and pressed the button to respond. The fact that it was ringing just meant he had made a connection; it might take up to a minute or so for a human to pick up the line. He paced around impatiently, looking out the door at the rain. It sure was coming down in buckets…. Or so he thought idly while waiting for someone to come pick up the phone. He noticed that the rain had caused a bit of the trash heap to slide forward, and the smell was even stronger.

There was a chirping noise, like some birds in a tree. Strange, you'd think they would avoid a downpour like this. Well that was what conventional wisdom would seem to suggest right? He was about to turn away, when he caught a glimpse of something coming out of the nearby trees. Like little lizards, about knee height-Clearly bipedal, moving in little hops as they climbed on top of the trash pile. There were about five or six of them in total, hopping and chirping as they moved. Jefferson frowned, trying to recall the briefing, had it said anything about this? They were digging in the heap now, trying to get something underneath.

Something about them rubbed Jefferson the wrong way, and he took a step back. Whatever these were, they hadn't noticed him yet, although he didn't think he recognized them from any of the local fauna. He had his hand on the door, and was ready to close it. At least he was halfway to closing it when he felt a small nip on his leg. The one part where he'd lifted the pant leg in order to step over the gate and forgotten to pat back down… He looked down to his side. In the gloom he could see them, their eyes glistening in the darkness. About three of them, and one was standing on the chair he'd used to prop the door open. Same kind of lizard as outside, he wondered vaguely how they'd managed to get in without him noticing…unless they already had been.

Gritting his teeth with rage, he pulled the chair back, so that it fell out under the bar. The animal fell with an unearthly shriek, onto its three companions. "Serves you right," Jefferson muttered under his breath. He put the phone up to his ear as he closed the door. There was increased chirping outdoors, probably agitated by their friend's predicament. Well let them chirp, he thought, he had a call to make. He leaned back down on the bar, looking down. Somehow when he'd closed the door, he'd accidently disconnected the call. He started to dial again; he knew this number pretty much by heart now. He put the phone on the bar as he leaned down to go bring his rifle up. There was a silent thump above him as he turned back carrying the gun in his other hand.

The lizard-thing was on the bar top as he got back up. It lunged forward, jaws snapping at his face. Only his quick reaction kept that thing from his face, as his hands grabbed its neck. The phone clattered to the bar surface, and he could hear the dial tone as the call started connecting. He half turned, using all his momentum to throw the lizard into the wall of bottles behind him. He heard clinking and breaking of glass as the animal squealed in pain. "That does it!" He shouted, his triumph turning into a howl, as he hopped again in pain. Another nip or two on his exposed ankle sent him stumbling forward. He tripped over the fallen chair, his arms scrambling for purchase on something, anything.

He grasped the door handle to stop himself, just in time apparently. The handle turned under his sudden weight, but he didn't let go as he propped himself up. The chirps continued behind him, he could see their eyes following them. The gun was over their on the bar, he thought he could just about reach it now. They were getting closer, and he stepped forward to try to scare them away. But he never let go of that handle, or to be more accurate he had forgotten too. The extra impetus was enough however, the door opened behind him. Jefferson turned his head as he realized what he'd done. He tried to close it, but it was one second too late.

The other five lizards outside rushed in so fast he barely had a moment to process it. The speed caused him to stumble back instinctively, right onto the fallen chair. He steadied himself on the edge of the bar, leaning and taking a few ragged breaths. He made a grab for the phone, a light on the side telling him he finally had a person on the other end. Just as he was about to respond, he felt a pressure on the back of his legs. _They were climbing him,_ Jefferson realized in horror. There were one or two on him, and he could feel nips on the back of his leg. He set the phone down hauling himself to the top of the bar where he could get away.

However, he miscalculated how much force he needed to apply. No sooner had he rolled onto the bar, did he abruptly fall over the other end. The phone, the bottle and the rifle clattered to the floor pushed by his weight. Groaning, he tried to get up, it felt like he'd hit his knee on a barstool, it was strangely numb. And he was tired…so tired all of a sudden. He saw in the dim light the top of the bar. All of the lizards were on top now, he couldn't figure out how. Before he could say anything or get up, they were on him. Biting and scratching his arms, his face, and his legs. He scrambled up, grabbing a chair for balance. He could hear the person on the other end of the phone asking who was there, who was there? Grabbing the phone from the chair seat, he started to answer.

"Listen," he said slowly, limping away towards the tables. Maybe he could get onto one, kick away the other chairs. They wouldn't be able to follow him there. He felt his eyes drooping; he just needed a rest was all. He was too overworked, and too tired from all the excitement of today. He made his way through the semi-darkness, hearing the chirps following him. The other end of the phone was asking for his identification number, did he have his identification number ready? "Yes, we have your number all day," he slurred, his head throbbing angrily like there was an animal that wanted to get out. "We have your number all day." He could see the front doo ahead of him, not that far off actually.

He could make it; he knew he could make it. He extended his hand out; it seemed so near and yet so far away. However, he failed to see that there was still a chair between him and his goal. He fell hard, smashing right into the chair. Groaning, he looked up from the splintered chair, seeing the phone on the floor. He started to get up, grabbing the phone again. However, he felt a weight on his back, coupled with several more brief stabs of pain. The heaviness returned, even more this time. He brought the phone in again, trying to say something, anything. But he slurred his speech as he did so. The door was so tantalizingly close, couldn't be more then five feet away really. Jefferson staggered on his knees now, trying to make progress, even as the lizards clung fiercely to his back.

He got a few feet before falling down again; damn those things were heavy. All he wanted in the world was to go outside, and rest. Somewhere nice and soft, away from those creatures. "This is Fred Jefferson calling in…." He was that close, his hand curled around the doorknob, twisting and tugging at it. One was at his shoulder now, nibbling a bit at its ear. He chuckled, grinning at the confusion over the phone. It tickled, he though vaguely. "I have found the Martians and they are us…" He pulled it open, the door falling loosely to the side. He fell down halfway onto the loamy earth, feeling the rain touching down on his back and head.

The phone was blaring beside him. "Who the hell is this? Identify yourself!" But Jefferson didn't care; he was just going to take a quick nap that was all. Then he would get up, get the hell out of here. His cheek kissing the dirt floor, he dragged the phone in closer. He could feel the rain on his back, the camouflage already having been torn in several places. A lizard hopped off his back, he could vaguely see its head craning down. Almost curious he thought, very, very curious. He cleared his throat, lifting his head dreamily off of the ground. He tried to shoo the lizard out of the way, but it just hopped to the side. Like it didn't care.

Holding the phone close up to his mouth, he gasped. "This is Fred Jefferson signing out, hold my calls-" He gagged suddenly; he couldn't speak any further. The lizard was biting his tongue, tugging at it. He tried to swat at it again and missed. This time, the lizard didn't move. The rest did however, and Jefferson found he couldn't swat all of them. Not for lack of trying though, he managed to get a few, but some got through regardless. He couldn't turn around to get them all because of his tongue, so he had no way of getting the ones that snuck up behind him. If it mattered at all to him by this time, because despite the excruciating pain he was feeling, all he wanted to do was go to sleep.

His eyes drooped down, as he slipped into unconsciousness. So he didn't even feel it as the compys gently began to nibble on his neck.


	17. Bite of the Raptor

Levine froze, standing completely still. He couldn't believe what his ears were telling him, but was forced to believe the evidence of his eyes. That doorknob was turning, it was turning, and the scrape of the metal told him no human hand could possibly be turning it. He'd been somewhat prepared for this after all, he'd not been completely blind to the constant rumors out of Costa Rica. He gripped the kid's arm, feeling it grow tense without him even having to tighten that grip. Well, at least both of them sensed that there was something very not right about that. But he knew he had only seconds, maybe even less to act on it.

He stepped back, using his free hand to push the kid into the kitchen. Hopefully he'd grown with a bone of sense in his body and wouldn't talk. Not that it would help much; he knew from experience that it most likely wouldn't. It might give them some more time though, and that was what Levine most needed right now. To figure out some semblance of a plan. Right now there was none, although he really thought he ought to change that sometime in the near future. Particularly if he wanted to still be breathing in five minutes. Just a random guess on that timeframe though, it might be less. The sweat rolled down his forehead as he heard the door opening, not followed through like a human would…but just allowed to be slammed against the wall by the wind. The noise echoed through the house like a thunderclap, breaking the silence.

He slipped his other hand inside his vest, as he and the kid leaned against the wall right by the door. He could hear the sound of something sniffing, the doorframe possibly? Perhaps. Footsteps out in the hall; tentatively sniffing the air. A scent, anything. Too late he realized that both his hands were empty. Damn! He kept making the same mistakes every time…. It would smell the candy wrapper eventually he realized, even though he couldn't see it. By the time he saw it though, it would be too fast, and it would be over before he even got a good glimpse. He knew that, which was why he had to be careful. Nobody ever got killed from being too careful, except when they were trying to cover their ass going out the door.

He risked a quick look around, trying to see what else he could do. Any back way out? There was no way in hell they were going by the hall that was for sure. He let go of the kid's arm, and put a finger to his mouth to indicate that he should be quiet. Make a sound, and they were dead. He could see by the kid's pale face that he recognized the danger that they were in, even if he was incapable of fully comprehending it. Why, you couldn't make these people up. He silently wondered if this kid had got his undergraduate in sociology. Probably, but that didn't matter so much, as getting them all out alive did it. Shush now, he could hear it hesitantly stepping over the threshold.

Any minute now it would start investigating the rooms, he knew. First the bedroom to the side, and then theirs. But it wouldn't give them that much time either. He saw a small island right in the center of the kitchen, which gave him an idea. It would have to do for now, because even any momentary advantage would have to be seized. Grabbing the kid's arm again, he pushed him down to the floor. Gesturing in the general direction of the island, he hoped he got the message. If he didn't that was because it was his own damn fault for falling asleep during lectures during his undergrad. He opened his vest, revealing a holstered revolver. Taking it out slowly, he crouched low against the island.

He could see something moving in the entrance to the hall. However, he knew better then to try to lift his head to get a better look. Slowly, he clicked back the safety to the revolver. He knew it was a piece of shit, if he'd actually had time to prepare for this trip, he would have come up with something better. It was true that this was still being better armed then during his trip to Sorna but not by much. He knew he shouldn't have that that asshole just outside of the airport rip him off like that, but he couldn't used his credit card at the time in case it was being tracked by the board. So goodbye Rolex that he'd packed at the last second, hello crappy six-shooter that looked as if it was a prop from an old spaghetti western.

At least he had ammunition, he thought after doing a last second check. He already realized that he was probably making too much noise. It would notice, and they would all be in deep shit. He rose slowly, keeping his gun leveled at the entrance. He kept Grant's words in his head, slowly repeating them as if they were some sort of mantra. _Not from the front….not from the front… _There was no motion as he slowly edged forward, not even daring to breathe. He could see the door open from here, wet and muddy tracks leading into the house. None leading out. They were too vague to make out clearly, because the mud tended to stain and spread out on this carpet. Nothing so far, he judged, even as he moved to the side again, to cover the other angle. Like they'd taught him in that police tactics seminar he'd conned the board into paying for. Well only the first day at least, he thought grinning to himself.

There was no sound from inside the house, and he drew in his breath again. He was now directly in front of the hallway, and he couldn't see anything. Maybe it was in one of the bedrooms? That was his best guess for now, although he still couldn't be sure. He saw the kid looking at him from back in the kitchen, peering from behind the island. Eyes practically begging to know if it was safe to come out now. Well, he couldn't be sure without clearing the house, but that wasn't exactly a proposition that Levine was willing to entertain right now. Hell would freeze over before he did that. Oh, and Roxton would be right, but that was another story entirely.

He edged slightly over to the side again, getting closer to the doorway. Part of him didn't want to get any closer, and the other part of him knew he was trapped here. This was the only way in or out, even if something unknown were indeed lurking there. He leaned over, sneaking a peek out into the hallway. Empty and clear, although he could see the door to one of the bedrooms open. The muddy footprints tracked to there, and he could already hear the sounds of something bumping into furniture. Well at least it was otherwise occupied, he thought to himself. Right now he had more important things to worry about, like getting a scared, and frightened grad student out of the house in one piece. Fact: he had no plan, and he realized this even as the wind started to pick up behind him.

It was a hell of a storm out there it sounded like, and he could hear the rustling of the trees as they blew in the wind. Levine didn't notice it because he was busy gesturing with his other hand for the kid to get out from under the island. God, he seemed so slow, crawling on his hands and knees. Such a pain, since he was trying to keep his eyes focused on the hallway at the same time. The kid was almost at the door now, still moving at a snails pace. Levine was disracted enough to grab Baxter by the arm, in an effort to get him to pick up the pace. He didn't notice the breeze that whistled over his ear, and wafted down the hall. Sending one particular power bar wrapper skittering into the bedroom of the door.

Instantly all the motion in the other bedroom stopped. The sniffing resumed again, and he heard something clatter to the ground. The animal turning around to investigate the source, he realized. Both Levine's and Baxter's heads craned again, transfixed as the animal slowly came into view. First the snout, then the head and then the whole body. No hesitation or nervousness at the presence of the two of them, it stepped out into the hallway, and finally Levine could see it for what it was. He was seeing it in the flesh for the first time in four years. In the flash of a second, the years seemed to strip away and he was on Sorna again. Only this time, no backup-nobody to even care where he had gone.

_Velociraptor Mongoliensis "Sornaensis"_ the last being the name he'd privately given to the mutated INGEN version of the animal. Six feet tall, the raptor was as big as a grown man. The long shadows contrasted sharply with its yellow brown skin, dark brown stripes just like a tiger. It's sickle claw clacked against the ground as it walked, and its eyes shone with a fierce intelligence. It growled at them, exposing rows of razor sharp teeth. It's head low; it slowly slithered out of the other bedroom, stalking them. There were shreds of tattered flesh in its jaws, Levine couldn't help but notice, meaning it had just eaten. But he remembered something else Grant had said. _Those bastards kill for pleasure of killing._

He backed up, pushing the kid behind him. "As fast as you can, run." He whispered out of the corner of his mouth. The man didn't need telling twice, and nearly tripped up Levine in his hurry to run. Leaving Levine alone with the raptor. He tightened his grip on the pistol as it stepped forward, snarling viciously. There was no way of really telling how much of an effect the gun would have on the animal. Given its size Levine wasn't sure if it would just piss it off to no end. Might have some value in distracting it momentarily, buying him some time. He tried to steady his arm, ready for the shot. Damn, he thought. Damn.

The raptor leaped forward, hoping to catch him off-guard. Levine's finger slipped, firing a shot out of desperation. Lucky shot, it seemed to hit right on the body, not enough to penetrate. But enough to cut the leap forward, sending it bowling into the opposite wall. It gave off a horrible screech, and he could see faintly a small ribbon of blood where the bullet had hit. Not that Levine paid that much attention. He backed up faster, right up until he was sure that he was right out of the doorway. The raptor was starting to get up now, he needed to go now. He didn't really care where, just somewhere safe and secure. He grabbed the outside doorknob, slamming the door shut.

Door wasn't locked but opening the door would take at least half a minute. Just enough time for him to get away. Before he could even hear the first creak of the metal, Levine had already turned and started running. Even in the driving rain he could make out some semblance of newly disturbed mud just to the left of him. That might be a good path to follow, he thought. He quickly pulled the safety back on the gun even as he chambered it for another round. He just hoped that the kid had enough sense to go try to hide somewhere secure. Where in this village would be safe from that raptor? He tried to mentally check everything down… based on his limited time in the village.

The first place of course would be the bar, but that might be a bit too far. There were not enough bullets in the gun to distract the dinosaur that much. Plus, if any of the doors were locked, would be pretty damn well screwed. The other houses would not serve as long-term solutions. He thought vaguely that his Hummer might provide a safe haven, but again it was too far. He thought maybe his only option would be to try to follow the kid, maybe stop him from getting himself killed. Going into the jungle was suicide, even in the day. The kid would get lost, easy prey for a predator who knew the jungle.

He risked a look back; saw the door just starting to open. Oh god… he just turned back, hearing the slipping and sliding as the raptor was chasing him. He imagined he could feel the hot breath of the animal right behind him, damn how fast was it? He was running past a row of houses, following the trail as hard as he could. He could see where it all led, or seemed to lead. Up a moderate hill, slightly paved. He knew what that meant, some sort of private residence, probably better and more secure then the ones down here. It seemed his only chance, or at least the best one he was going to get about now. There was really no more time to think about his options.

Looking back behind him again, he realized that the raptor was almost on him. He brought his gun over his shoulder, and fired a shot haphazardly. It missed, but he still kept on running. By this time he was already somewhat up the hill, trying to make progress. The driving rain kept him from gaining a good foothold on it. It was a shame, but at least it would be slowed the same as he was. However, he had a feeling that the most direct route was most likely not on his mind. No, with those animals to assume anything would get you killed. But he did see disturbed mud up ahead, meaning the kid had indeed come through here, and just missed him by seconds most likely.

He could see the top of the ridge now; it seemed rather flat up there. Couldn't really tell though. It distracted him enough that he slipped on the mud, causing him to fall flat on his face. Trying to get up, he heard a thump. _But from the side…_ He saw a snarling mouth, sickle claw aimed high. Ready to disembowel him here in an anonymous Costa Rican village. The gun too far away…he felt his life pass before his eyes, at the ridiculousness of it all. He grit his teeth, feeling its hot breath close to him as the raptor snarled in triumph. He was going to die, despite all his careful planning; he was going to die.

The Raptor made another lunge, and Levine shut his eyes. Two seconds later, he clearly wasn't dead, so he opened them again. The raptor was backing up; he could see something streaking down its side in the rain. Blood, it had been hit on the side…. Shrieking in pain, it snapped at nothing for a second. Levine wasn't waiting however, and he turned over, grabbed the gun and ran in the direction the shot had come from. It might be enough to distract it for a few more moments, but he wasn't gambling on it. People who took those kinds of chances usually ended up dead, in jail, or both. So he cleared the top, and made a beeline for shelter.

He could see it, right ahead of him. A large compound, he'd would've said belonged to one of those freaks who liked to hide out in the desert near Bakersfield. Anyway there was a fence around it. Perfect, he thought to himself. Barbed wire at the top, just the right sort of protection. There was another figure running too, just slightly ahead of him now. He guessed the kid must already be inside because this new man was of a different build. But all he could see in this damned rain was that he wore a hat, sort of like an old fashioned game warden. Screw that, he thought to himself as the renewed snarl was already right behind him.

He slid right in through the gate, the man waving him through. Great, but…He landed on his back, watching in horror as the raptor immediately started climbing the fence. Damn it was almost at the top now…he heard the gate close with a slam behind him. "What the hell good does that do?" He said, already standing up, backing towards the door to the compound. He had his hand on the door handle, just as the gate interlocked with the rest of the fencing. There was a brief shower of sparks and a hideous screeching noise from the raptor. It let go of the fence, and he could see the scald marks on its claws. So that was it…an electric fence…

The man turned to him, ignoring the raptor giving one last snarl before slipping into the forest. His shotgun was raised at him, a questioning glance in his eye. Levine knew he might have only one chance with this guy, so he raised his hands slowly, dropping his gun as he did so. "Marty sent me," he said, though that wasn't exactly the truth. He could see a little clearer now, because the entrance had a little overhang above it. The man's face becoming visible and clearer. He thought he recognized him… He couldn't be one hundred percent sure, but just going by what Malcom had told him it very well could be.

"I know about Nublar," he said. "I'm a friend of Grant and Malcom." Hopefully that would be enough…. He held his breath as the man stepped out of the rain, onto the porch.

"A 'friend' huh?" Robert Muldoon said as he shook his head. "Tell me… who are you exactly?"

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	18. Eye of the Storm

It was the constant pattering of the rain against the windows that finally woke her up. She had no perception of what time it was, and just lay there on the bed for a long moment. Carter rubbed her eyes, as she sat up on the bed, running her hand down her face as she checked her watch. She hadn't really intended to sleep for a while, only a very quick nap. But as her watch indicated, it seemed that it had been some hours actually. A three hour nap… and yet she still felt tired. How she usually felt during a night shift back at county. It was the middle of the afternoon, as she could see by the light streaming through the window through the blinds.

Groggily she stood up, realizing she still had a patient on the table. Yeah, he would need to be checked up on, make sure the dressings didn't need to be changed. They probably did by now, so she walked over to the closet, scanned the clothes. Since the previous owner of the house wasn't going to need these anytime soon, she could just take anything in here. She eventually settled on a blue jacket, as providing enough material to be used to aid the makeshift tourniquet. As she closed the closet door, she realized that she was also a bit hungry and thirsty as well. She assumed the patient would be as well. Hopefully there was something in the pantry that they could use.

Carter came out of the bedroom, heading straight for the living room. She heard no other noise as she walked, realizing that with the exception of Guitierrez, she was alone in the house. That realization combined with the knowledge that the barman and the kid had left to get supplies before her nap unnerved her. Had something happened to them? The monster that had come out of the barn…was it conceivable that they both had fallen victim to it? Well if that was the case, then she was probably in the safest place right now, since it probably couldn't enter the building, especially since she'd taken the precaution of locking the doors. Well, only one beast, she thought, that was a thought that failed to reassure her in any way, shape or form.

Passing by Marty, she saw that he was still asleep, or appeared to be. Fine, but she checked for his pulse just in case. Okay, he was still alive, breathing normally. But for how much longer? She knew that this man urgently needed medical care, of a sort that she could only treat at its rudimentary levels with her given supplies. But the good thing was that he hadn't died of shock in the past few hours, so that meant the prognosis was probably favorable. She would let the man rest, while she went to see if there was anything to eat. If he needed it, she would probably have to administer some more morphine, just to dull the pain. Because when it started to wear off…. yes it would be very shocking.

Stepping around the table, she got some plates and cups from the kitchen cupboard. There didn't seem to be that much food in the pantry, but it would serve for the next couple of days. She figured that the other houses in the village would probably have more if she went down there. But for now, she didn't want to leave the house, until she was quite certain that Baxter and the Barman weren't coming back. Her jeep was down at the village, if it came to that, she could go down there and bring it up… But without support, she didn't know if she'd be able to carry Marty into the car. Maybe if he was lucid enough, but that was probably hoping for too much right now.

As she stood by the sink eating a leftover piece of fish, she realized she could see the barn from the window. The doors were still splayed open, the footprints in the dirt indicating what had happened earlier. Refusing to be wiped out by the rain, they stood as an impossible testament. Reminding her that she was in effect, trapped in here, by something that should've been extinct sixty-five million years ago. She had no explanation for it, not even now that she was able to think about it rationally. A voice in the back of her head told her she should know the answer, that there had indeed been a precedent. That time…. almost ten years ago. It made it hard to swallow just thinking about it, and she shook her head.

That poor man, she thought…the first person that she failed to save. And she didn't even have photographic documentation… dammit why was she still dwelling on this? It had been a construction accident that was all… Yeah, what sort of construction accident did that? Some questions just didn't have answers readily coming to them anytime soon, and this appeared to be one of those. If there was indeed some valid way to answer that, it was probably lost to the mists of time. Just another incident in Costa Rica… that man probably took the camera so as to limit liabilities anyhow. Yes that was it… she continued eating, watching the rain pour down upon the glass,

It seemed she heard something faintly in the distance. Like birds chirping. What sort of birds came out in the rain? Then she saw them, her surprise causing her to set the dish down a bit harder then necessary. No, that wasn't right. Green figures, possibly two to three feet high, she couldn't see them clearly in this rain. Anyway, they were hopping up and down, as they seemed to come up the hill from the village. She'd seen nothing like them, though they intrigued her. As she watched, they headed to the barn, as if driven by a powerful scent. Half of them went in, and the other half stayed outside. She was reminded of the powerful stench of carrion that they had all smelled after the barn had burst open. What would that attract?

The door window would present a better view, Carter thought suddenly. She turned and pulled the blinds aside on the kitchen door. Yes, the view was a little better from here; she could indeed see things a bit more clearly. The other lizards were coming towards the house, hopping curiously. As she looked down, the reason for their interest became clear, there was a chicken coop right on the side of the house, she could see a bit of it here by the back door. The birds were agitated now, as if they could sense some predator. Surely not those lizards, she thought considering that they were about as high as the chickens. Still, there was something uneasy about them, as her hand curled around the handle.

"Don't do that," the voice sounded sleepy and disjointed, but still very much defined. Enough at least to let go of the door handle, hearing the chirps of the lizards as they drew nearer to the house. She turned around; saw Marty shifting around on the table. Well now that he was awake… It was probably a good idea at this point to see how lucid he was. She went over to his side, carefully checking the dressing. She had wanted to wait until he was awake to change it, even though it would probably make things a bit more difficult. People in pain tended to get upset about that sort of stuff. Still, she was prepared to do whatever it took to help.

"Are you feeling okay?" She said as a matter of course. The important thing was just to keep him talking, so that he didn't fall unconscious. Right now his metabolism was only where it was because of the morphine, and right now she had no idea how long the dosage could really last out here. Could be a couple of minutes, a couple of hours more maybe. She checked his pulse again, holding his wrist for a couple of seconds. Seemed normal, at least she thought so. "Don't do what?" She asked idly as she set his hand back down. The chirps were a bit louder, and she could hear the increased clamor of the fowl. But it seemed to be stifled somehow, that didn't really make sense.

"Of course," Marty was holding his hand up to his head, pressing his forehead down. "Of course…they never noticed because they are beneath notice…" He chuckled as if he found something very funny. "With a high human habitation around, nothing's going to happen right? No sireee." He shook his head and laughed, a low and crooked laugh that sounded off. "Things just stay the way they always been right? At least until something happens." He started coughing, probably because he was trying to talk too soon after waking up. She was trying to check his temperature now that he was awake, mostly nodding politely as he was talking. It didn't make much sense, but she figured he was probably still feeling the effects of the morphine.

"We just need to check your bandages now," She said in that official tone she normally adopted when talking to patients. Back in Chicago this would be classified a trauma and the doctors would probably swarm the man the minute he came off the ambulance. Here…it was only her. She turned to see his leg relieved to see that he hadn't lost that much blood. The bad news was that the tourniquet was soaked through; it needed some more dressings on it. She leaned over and grabbed the blue jacket off of a nearby char. Taking a kitchen knife from a drawer, she began to try to cut the fabric into crude strips. It wasn't going to be perfect she knew, but it would do the job for now.

Marty continued talking, and the more he did, the more Carter was convinced he was still heavily under the influence of the Morphine. "You hear those chirps, the ones outside?" They could both hear them now, a bit higher pitched, and the chickens had suddenly stopped clucking. Odd really, there was no reason for that. "Picture a beach on Cabo Blanco…a lonely beach. An animal lies died and an Americano tourist is injured… a lizard jumps back into the ground… " This wasn't making that much sense. At least not until he said something else, that made her freeze entirely. "Or maybe there's a rash of infant deaths…. A sudden spike… nobody wants to say anything…" That sounded eerily familiar to Carter, even as she ripped off the first strip of the jacket.

She had a feeling that he was saying things he wouldn't normally divulge under the drug. In fact, she realized exactly what he was talking about… Something that a man outside of the country shouldn't know about. There had been a rash of infant deaths in Bahia' Anasco nearly ten years ago, right around the time a lone helicopter had flown out of the blue over the ocean. But the government had hushed it up, and the locals had either gone along, or whispered in dark corners about the 'hupia'. But that didn't make sense… She shook her head, wrapping the second strip around the tourniquet and pulling tightly. Not enough, it would need more bandages most likely.

"Something was introduced…" He swallowed shaking his head. "Something utterly alien and yet once entirely common place. The transition period was rough… a new environment, those who didn't quickly learn how to adapt must've been the first to fall…But those who did…discovered that the jungle…" It seemed to be gibberish to her, the ranting of a man who was still severely traumatized by an accident. She wished she had some painkillers to give him, or something at least to help him stay lucid. But with debilitating pain like this was it better that he not be aware of it for the time being? That was a difficult question to answer, and a bit out of her scope.

"Does this have anything to do with those lizards out there?" She asked, her mind starting to put the pieces together. Even as she tore off another strip of the jacket, she was starting to realize that maybe the picture was connected… the things this man was saying made sense, for some strange reason. "They didn't come from…around here did they?" There was another unsettling thing, how exactly 'introduced' were they? She hadn't heard of anything like that it seemed that someone would've reported them earlier. But the jungle was dense, and even the locals preferred to stay out of its depths. Enough stories about people getting… lost were sufficient deterrent. Turning, she readied the second strip, suddenly realizing that was the first time she'd mentioned what was outside to him.

Marty Guitierrez lifted his head, raising himself on one knee. Careful not to twist the leg, he faced her and they stared for a long moment. "What the hell did you just say?" His voice was level, even though she could clearly see by the way his eyes dilated that he was still under the influence of the morphine. "I was saying those things because the chirps reminded me of…" He shook his head, as if disbelieving. "You mean to tell me…" They both stopped because they could hear the chirps again. Carter backed away, looking carefully outside the door making sure that she didn't touch the handle. She wished she hadn't, once she saw the lizards standing in what had formerly been the chicken coop.

It was a scene straight out of nightmare. The chickens were so badly mauled they were unrecognizable at this point. The green lizards were still feeding, their mouths stained with blood. "My god…what the hell is that thing?" She said, looking back at him. She took off her glasses, just to make sure she was seeing it right. The image wouldn't go away, it was sort of a bad horror film. The dots were connecting, everything Marty had said. Slowly she turned to face him, suddenly realizing. Her mouth was drawn into a thin line, part of her wanting to shout, and the other part telling her that the man knew more then he was letting on…much more. She stepped back, instinct telling her to keep her voice level. "If you know what the hell these things are… Like hell you do." It wasn't often that she was upset, but right now was one of these times.

"A long story," Marty sighed with a dismissive wave. "It started on an island, a three hour tour, three days actually." He laughed, the morphine causing his voice to crack a bit as he did so. "But it boils down to this. " He tried to lift his arm again, and Carter was right there to help keep him steady so that he didn't fall. But she didn't let him down easy, even as he continued talking. "Those things outside, what did they look like?" He seemed sober, though she knew the drug must still be affecting him very much at this point. "Short, greenish about knee height?" The description was uncannily accurate, and she felt a chill shiver down her spine.

"That's exactly right." But that wasn't enough, just confirming that he knew about those creatures. "But that's not right is it?" The animal she saw coming out of the barn… and the hellish lizards in the chicken coop. There had to be some sort of explanation, and she felt herself searching for answers. Actually he'd given some of it away, and she remembered what they'd said about an offshore resort some ten years ago. An accident there…"An island…" she repeated. "Does a raptor bite and scratch his prey?" the words coming from the past and she could see by his eyes that he was utterly surprised. He hadn't expected THAT at the very least. She was fairly surprised herself.

"How'd…it was supposed to be airtight." He said, and she could tell by his pulse rate that he was getting excitable. Not a good thing. "The animals just melted into the jungle, not a problem for anybody. Nobody says anything, extinction is your only option." She saw another syringe in the bag, right near the top, still holding the man in her arms; she reached out and grabbed it. Ripping the plunger cover off with her teeth prepped his arm. "But if they're coming out now, it has to be because of something rupturing the system. Something destabilizing the balance. It would've been enough, it would've been more then enough." Nothing he said was making that much sense, but together it was. And that was very unnerving.

"So what the hell are those things?" she said, as she injected the dose of Morphine into his arm. Not too much, just enough to dull the pain and slow his heart rate again for now. As Marty went limp, she felt her face pressed to the back of his head, feeling his wet hair upon her lips briefly. She wanted to know, if only to answer that one thing that had eluded her until now. But he was going under again, and might not be this lucid again. Hell, he was barely lucid to begin with, but this was as much as he was going to get without going into shock. "It's all right", she said as she knew the morphine was having its effect. "Don't fight it."

Marty sighed, his head falling back. "Dinosaurs. They were cloning Dinosaurs." There was a long pause as his eyes glazed over with the new influx of the morphine dilated his eyes once more. He smiled, finally relaxed again. "A clever man, Mr. Hammond."

The rain came down against the windows, the glass streaked like tears.

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	19. Complexity Theory

The definition of living dangerously was a loose one. There were various complicated nuances that a normal person couldn't be expected to understand. Well at least it was easier to understand the finer points of his philosophy once a shot or two of alcohol had entered your system. It was the best way to clear your mind, especially when life seemed to be too complicated to handle. But most people couldn't understand, or maybe they didn't want to understand. Robert Muldoon didn't care either way. Other people's business and all that. But that was beside the point, superfluous really. But the basic principle applied to everything, the underlying complexity non-withstanding. It was one of those things that helped you get through the day, hell throughout life.

For instance there was the man walking behind him, as he entered the compound and shut the door behind them. He noticed the man visibly relaxed, which was a natural reaction after reaching safety. He didn't loosen his grip on his Spas-12, nor did he hand the man back his gun. Probably the safest thing for everybody, considering how badly a job he botched of protecting himself. If he hadn't been there, the man probably would be facedown on the clearing floor, the kid beside him with their back ripped open. He stashed the handgun in his waistband, making a mental note to himself to store it properly later on. First things first, after all he didn't even know who this guy was, or the kid for that matter.

"Thanks for saving my ass out there," the man chuckled, the nervousness betraying itself in his weak laugh. "I guess I really was lucky, damn lucky." Muldoon turned to face the man, giving him a stare. The man returned it, his gaze strangely fixed and focused. He didn't look like a local, or even the sort of guy who traveled to Costa Rica often. "You found the kid right?" Muldoon assessed he probably had hopped off the plane recently as well, probably less then forty-two hours ago perhaps. He didn't make these guesses arbitrarily, but he figured that he was partially correct. However he knew one thing for sure. He wasn't going to be providing any sort of answers without getting some in return.

Muldoon grabbed the man by the arm, as he attempted to walk right past him. "I'll ask the questions around here." It was difficult to restrain him with just one hand so he was hoping that the sight of the SPAS-12 in his other hand would bring some sense into him. Things like that usually did, and if all went well, without any further need for violence on anyone's part. "First thing we need to take care of, is tell me how the hell you know so much." Or at least the man thought he knew anyhow. For all he knew the man could've been just throwing out keywords he'd read in some file somewhere to throw him off. "Who are you, and who do you work for," he intone flatly, thinking that it was vaguely stereotypical.

"Wait, wait, wait." The man held up his hands. "Okay let me start by introducing myself." He swallowed and nodded. "My name is Richard Levine, and I am-or at least I used to be a paleontologist." He lowered his hands a bit, breathing hard and slow, just like they did in the movies. "I know Malcom, you might say…. We go way back." Muldoon didn't release his grip on this man-Levine, just yet. He wanted to know a bit more. "I have to ask you, is the kid all right? He ran ahead and I never saw where he went…did you?" Okay now this was some information, just not the kind he was looking for. He let go of Levine's arm, still eyeing the man cautiously.

"So Levine," he said tenuously, "What brought you to the village today." He just had to be on his guard today, especially with the arrival of those 'mercenaries' that morning. If they were really Mercenaries…. No the most likely situation was that they came because they were after something. Someone tipped them off, and he knew what that something likely was. A certain dinosaur some asshole decided it would be entertaining to keep as a pet? Maybe. Maybe. But he still didn't know how much to say to this man, or what he even knew. "That animal that attacked you," he began tactfully, 'It's not something that needs to be…reported or made public by any means. It was dark, rainy, and only your word that you saw it."

"Save the bullshit," Levine interrupted with an unsual presence. They were almost down to the end of the hall, right to the common room. They were stopped at the door now, and Levine was holding the doorknob. "That was a Velociraptor Mongoliensis, one of the animals that escaped the first island." There was a long and interminable pause, during which Muldoon felt himself breathing very hard. "That's not the reason I came down here today if that's what your wondering. Hell I figured that thing would be so rare the chance would be greater of winning the damn lottery then encountering it down here. No, I came for an entirely different reason. " Has the atmosphere in the room chanced suddenly, this hadn't featured in Muldoon's book.

Keeping a straight face, he looked Levine up and down. "Maybe if you'd like to clarify, the exact reason…." He was a complex man, but a very direct one as well. But there was something about other people who were equally direct that was somehow off-putting. He couldn't quite explain it. The man had identified the raptor down to the species name, and identified Nublar. There was definitely something very off here… He put it together. Someone in the village had called him, and he rapidly tried to figure out who. That narrowed it down, to exactly one person. He squinted taking a breath as Levine opened the door. "Marty called you didn't he?" That was the most likely, and probably the only possibility.

"Yes he did as a matter of fact." Levine reached into his pocket and got his cell phone out. After pressing some buttons he showed it to Muldoon, who leaned forward to look. Squinting, he realized the image even though it was taken in what appeared to be the muddy and damp confines of the barn. A basal Theropd footprint, much like those he'd seen back in his days at the park. But it was like none he'd seen before, which reminded him also of that night in the barn. What had that animal been exactly? More importantly, was it still there somehow? "I knew he wouldn't send it if it wasn't damned urgent, or he knew someone else to send it to."

Muldoon nodded, as they walked into the general room, the things Levine had said weighing on his mind. But why would Marty call him unless…. Something seemed to click inside. But there were more important things to discuss first, such as the initial problem in front of both of them. Lying on the sofa in the common room was the kid, who'd run in front of Levine. He seemed to be taking deep breaths. "Any idea on who the hell this guy is?" He said turning to Levine. He sort of recognized him from when Marty had arrived by helicopter. Sort of guy who never really bothered to learn the name. Figured that Marty would say it by accident sooner or later.

"That doesn't matter so much Muldoon, as does the pressing situation," They were both seated now, pretty much ignoring the guy on the sofa. "If that raptor was really as aggressive as it just showed when it attacked me, half the population of the village would be dead by now." Muldoon was actually impressed, sitting back and watching the man with a keen eye. Maybe this man had some brains after all. "Something instigated that, a new predator in its territory…. or something I don't know." He leaned down, placing the phone on the endtable. "This picture was taken from somewhere in the village, Muldoon." His calm demeanor was somehow very annoying and frustrating at the same time. "Can you think of anything that might have happened in the last few days? Because this picture was sent yesterday."

Muldoon turned the phone around, propping the gun up by the side of the armchair. He folded his hands together, trying to not express surprise that the man knew his name. "There is actually," he said, silently wishing he still had that eggshell. Too bad he'd broken it years ago when dusting his desk. "That picture was taken in a barn in the other side of the village." He still had to be very cautious, even if Marty had been the person to dial him. "A man brought in an egg, around 1995 or 1996 I can't be sure." He noticed Levine visibly stiffen at the statement, though he couldn't possibly imagine why. "Built a barn to contain it. I let him continue for a while but then…" He trailed off, his hand to his head, tilting his hat a bit. There was just no right way to say it.

Levine got up, shaking his head. "Damn!" He seemed to be unusually agitated, though the reason wasn't immediately clear. He got up, paced around the room. Muldoon stayed seated, although he did keep his hand on his gun. "I've told you a bit of the puzzle, now isn't it customary to offer a bit about yourself?" He was intrigued by this man, who apparently Marty trusted enough to break the nondisclosure agreement. Well not technically, since this was on the mainland, had nothing to do with the park. Hell, he barely had wanted to discuss it with him in the first place. But…"You know a lot," he said getting up as well. "But Hammond never mentioned you as a consultant." That thought had crossed his mind, that Levine might have been a consultant, what with being a paleontologist.

"What no," Levine replied. "Look you're not an idiot I can see that. Surely you must have been paying attention to the headlines a few years back. Aberrant forms on the coast up and down all of Costa Rica!" He threw his arms wide; thrust his fists against the kitchen island. "The dinosaurs weren't destroyed, not all of them…the raptor outside is proof of that." He paused…. biting his lip. "Think back to what I said earlier, there was more then one island. It should've been obvious, even to a game warden like you." That last comment was especially and needlessly pointed, Muldoon thought to himself as he got up as well. Taking a few steps towards the kitchen area, he pushed the kid aside who was busy eating some fruit.

"Are you saying that there was another way for him to get the egg?" That seemed to make sense, in some strange way. He knew that Levine was right, there was no way in hell something like that had been on Nublar. At least not from what he'd seen... It seemed like he was missing something, some very vital piece of the overall complexity that would make it all fit together. He tried to think, but it wasn't making that much sense. Hammond had said all the dinosaurs were made on Nublar, and until now Muldoon had pretty much taken him at his word. No reason at all to doubt the man, even from beyond the grave. "You know something I don't?" He said, his hand firmly on his hat now.

"Yes," Levine said, his face very serious now. "Hammond basically fooled everyone on staff apparently, you included. Only a select few were ever privy to the secret. There was another island, Isla Sorna." He paused to let that sink in for a moment. "Hammond was creating the animals over there, shipping them off to Jurassic Park when they were fully grown." Muldoon leaned forward, his brow furrowing even more, he hadn't heard the name of that place in years, had hoped never to hear it again. But if this was true… That might change pretty much everything. "It was to this island that I traveled to in '95, and I found that in their rush they had left animals behind…"

There was a thunderclap outside, and Muldoon shook his head and grit his teeth. This certainly explained some things, especially why this man knew about Hammond the Park, but something still nagged at him. "This other island," He looked out the window, staring at the pouring rain. "Where there any other animals that weren't on Nublar? Carnivores Specifically?" He thought this was the test, if this man really knew Malcom he would be able to answer without a doubt. Even ten years later he could still recite all of the species by heart. It was his pride as a game warden; he could still remember them all. There was another thunderclap, and he heard what sounded like a faint low buzzing.

Now to a normal person that would just sound like the thunder rolling, but Muldoon knew better. He'd not been blind to the rumours out of Costa Rica either, and even though he knew it was a very slight chance, he didn't want to be caught unawares. Even if that raptor had lived close to the village all these years, the sheer volume of people nearby had taught it the wariness of all wild animals. But even the native animals wouldn't rush in to fill a vacuum. Levine looked at him straight in the eye. "[I]Carnotaurus Sastrei[/I], seven, eight feet tall", he held up his index fingers as a descriptive tool. "Two horns on either side of the head." Muldoon frowned as he got up, stepping backwards a bit.

In that hazy light back at the barn, he remembered seeing something like that. He'd put it down to too much drinking, which had to be it. But how would that animal… He knew something that size would be too large to have snuck onto the mainland from a boat. Unless it had been someone who worked there…no anyway if something this large had gotten to the mainland before the government would've figured it out. "At least it's safely in that barn" he chuckled nervously seeing Levine perk up suddenly, the kid as well. But Muldoon wasn't paying that much attention. He was looking outside the window the fence in the pouring rain. The sensor lights were on, something had tripped them off.

"You guys just sit tight," he said, seeing Levine had started to move forward. "The perimeter alarms have been set off. Don't know if that means the raptor came back again…" He hoped it didn't, but just to be on the safe side, he quickly switched the safety off on the rifle, readying himself to live dangerously. Hell, he was ready every day. "Just close the doors and windows," even though they had bars on them there was no sense in being safe for now. He didn't notice the kid getting up, and approaching him. "What," he said flatly, scowling at the kid. "Stay away from the windows." There were only so many ways you could fix stupid, and this kid seemed to have a terminal case.

"The animal you were talking about, the ones with horns on it…" He seemed nervous for some reason Muldoon didn't know. He just wanted to tell the man to get one with it. "The Costa Ricans that came, they opened the barn door, Dr. Guitierrez was injured and it ran off into the jungle." He stopped; probably sensing that was the only bit of useful information he had in his entire body. Muldoon took a step back, his hand gripping his hat. He saw Levine's mouth open, his face the perfect picture of concern. Well if this wasn't fine and dandy. He gave the kid another scowl, wondering how they could've all just stood there and let this happen.

"None of you move anywhere," he growled in what he hoped was convincing enough for these morons. If there was another animal out there even larger then the raptor and actively carnivorous, they shouldn't even be leaving this damned building, much less running out there in the rain like a couple of fools. A wonder they were still alive. "Stay right here," he growled as he ran out of the room. It wasn't just himself he was worried about here. What if they got themselves killed? But it was his responsibility to investigate it, He ran down the hall, and unlocked the door. He couldn't see anything unusual but he knew that was probably typical. You never do when you really expect to.

As Robert Muldoon stared out at the driving rain, he heard the sensor beep again, very close to his position.


	20. Phase Space

After Muldoon returned, things began to become complicated very fast. Or at least, it all started to blur. First there was the rattle of the door, the few tense moments in the house. Then there was a collective sigh of relief as they realized it was Muldoon behind the door, alive and unscathed. Just a minor panic, especially when the man had considered five minutes was a rather long time to stay outside, especially after such a dire warning as he'd given. Instead, there was no words spoken, just silence. Utter and complete silence, complemented only by the pounding of the rain outside. The look on the man's face... it seemed to say it all. Everything and nothing all in one expression.

Baxter and Levine had stepped to the side as Muldoon had come in, gun raised, and he was not alone. There was another figure, hard to discern exactly because of how mud stained and soaking wet the person was. However, Baxter thought he could make out at least some patches of recognizable camouflage uniform. Must be one of the three 'mercenaries' that had come in that morning ran after the animal. Head down, so Baxter could barely tell who the person was. His heartbeat accelerated, as he remembered on of the three had been the Biosyn agent he'd originally made a deal with. He didn't know if that man was still alive or not, or if he'd any of the others were privy to it.

Muldoon had a backpack on his shoulder, similarly dirty and stained. As he'd passed them, Baxter noticed him hand it off to Levine without batting an eye from the person he was leading along at gunpoint. The silence was palpable, and Baxter noticed the person holding their arms up. The sign of a captive or a prisoner everywhere, pretty international it seemed to him. As they passed him by, the person lifted their head, and their eyes met. Baxter was surprised to see it was the woman, considerably worse for the wear then she'd been earlier. There was a resigned look on her face, and she sighed as she passed him. Her eyes trailed off, seemingly past him, resting on the backpack in Levine's hands.

The two stared at each other, and then after a pause they heard a door slam, and a key locking. Baxter felt that was his cue to go back into the living room. Muldoon was standing next to the table, holding the key. "Place the backpack down on the table gently," he said tersely. He looked tired and he shook his head. As Levine placed the bag on the table, he gestured for all of them to come and look. "Don't get too close, and don't touch anything." As they leaned over, Muldoon set the gun down and opened the sack. "The reason for that little display earlier…" He reached in the bag and took something out. It was a white ovoid, dimpled all over like a golf ball. It really did look like an ostrich egg…that was the least he could compare it to.

"Shit," Baxter heard himself say, it just seemed so surreal, like he was seeing this from another plane. He thought that shit was hitting the fan; especially since the egg had to come from here…He could see Levine frowning, as they both looked at the object. "So is that…" He didn't have time to say anymore because just then Muldoon reached into the pack with his other hand, took out an ovoid that exactly matched the first, except it seemed to be slightly more dimpled at the ends. "Is that what I think it is?" If it was, then they most likely had a very serious problem, and he found himself swallowing. What had they got themselves into exactly? No one spoke, or seemed to want to be the first person to speak. Everybody was thinking, about just how to react.

"Yes, these are eggs." Muldoon said softly shaking his head. "Don't know where the hell she got them from, although it's safe to say from close by." He looked from first Levine, to Baxter meeting their gazes. "Obviously these people whoever they are were not sent from the Costa Rican's at all." He put the eggs back in the pack gingerly, making sure that they didn't clash "We need to find out who sent her, and why. It's vitally important that we do this now, before we do anything else." Baxter could see his point, although he was very unsure of himself right now. So far as he knew they had no way of communicating with the outside world, and he didn't know if he wanted to risk going outside to get the Hummer.

""So who wants to lead the questioning?" Levine said to his right. "Do we all go in together or…." Baxter noticed that Levine looked worried, his frown continually parsed by timely winces. He was very uncomfortable with all this, and it seemed he was not really ready for this turn of events. "I don't know…" Baxter was surprised to see that Levine was fidgeting with his hands all of a sudden. "Isn't there just some way we could keep her contained until we get the situation under control?" Yet he didn't look like he had a plan to do that, or any idea actually on how to proceed from here. "Can't we…." He indicated the eggs, nervous just to be around them.

"We'll talk about what to do with that believe me," Muldoon said, his voice hard. " He gestured at Baxter, his head swiveled to the side. "If you don't mind kid, this is going to be a discussion for men here, and frankly I don't give a damn what you do." He paused again, as if considering the matter. "We can't have a conversation with our uninvited guest if she's unwilling-or unable to talk to us." He gestured back to the kitchen. "If you want to play the sympathetic jailer, you can get a plate and provide a meal for her. No knives or forks are going in that bedroom, so I'd recommend you pick something not too messy that won't leave a stain on the floor."

Baxter only nodded, and as he turned his head, sure enough the two men began to argue. He mentally tuned most of it out, trying to pay attention only to whatever tidbits might be important. Shaun Baxter rolled up his sleeves first, and then opened the cabinent, taking a plate out. Placing it on the kitchen counter, he opened the icebox, and took out the first two things he found, namely a Tupperware container of cooked rice and some cold beans. As he slid them from their containers on the plate he looked back up, noticing the conversation was getting a bit heated. Something about the eggs and the girl, what was to be done with them. As far as Baxter could tell, Muldoon was about ready to be the bad cop, which left Levine with the role of 'good cop'. Stereotypical maybe, but that was the picture he was getting…

As he walked out of the kitchen, Muldoon swiveled around to face him. He took the plate for an instant, looking for any hidden utensils. Apparently satisfied the other man returned the plate, giving him a paper towel as well. "Where is she?" Baxter asked, so those two could get back to whatever the hell it was that they were talking about. Muldoon nodded and gestured to him, leading him to a hallway that opened up on the other end of the room. The first door on the right. Just knock three times when you want out. As Baxter stepped in holding the plate, he heard the door close and lock behind him. That made sense; Muldoon was erring on the side of caution, just in case.

The space inside the room was not dark, the blinds were open and the lamp on the end table was on. Baxter set the plate down the table, and turned to face the prisoner. She had removed her jacket already, the stained uniform resting on the back of the chair. The woman had on a white tank top underneath, and what looked like a bemused smile on her face. Shaun was at a loss for words really, as he saw she'd tried to wipe the rain and dirt off her face with some of the blankets, it really went a long way. "What do they want?" The woman said to him, her face impassive, and straining to be neutral. "If it's about who I work for, they're in for a long time. Be sure to tell them that."

Baxter realized he was staring and shook his head. "I just brought some food, in case you were hungry." He realized suddenly that this woman was a colleague of the man he'd made a deal with-who incidentally was the leader of the three 'mercenaries'. Ah to hell with it, he knew now who they really worked for, Biosyn, whom Ed James had said he was affiliated with back when they'd made the deal. Which was probably invalidated by now due to the Biosyn agents discovering dinosaur survival on their own but still…. "I don't know if you were aware…." He paused, unsure of how to say it. "But before this expedition, James and I had a deal. Which means right now I'm your best hope for some sort of compromise."

Her demeanor seemed to change abruptly, and he could see what appeared to be a crooked half-smile emerging on her face. "Sit down," she said, "and bring the plate over…." She ran her hand through her short raven hair, while tapping the side of the bed where she was sitting. Baxter pulled the chair up to the bed, and set the plate down in front of her. "Okay," she said. "James told me about the deal," she bit her lip as if trying to think. "That deal however can still be in effect if you want it to," she said carefully, staring at him, her eyes gesturing to outside the door. It left no doubt as to what exactly she was referring to. "He told me about your…situation, I'm sure right now you could really use the money."

Baxter nodded, as he watched her eat. It was true that his graduate studies had caused him to take out a bundle of student loans. His credit was almost ruined actually, there was no way in hell he could afford to take out any more loans-or pay the ones he'd already taken out. "It's about the eggs then," he shook his head. "Where the hell did you find them?" he knew this question was probably damn near irrelevant but all the same… He was the kind of man who liked to know exactly what he was getting into, even if he sort of had an idea. "And secondly…yes. I need the money, but how the hell am I going to save them?" There were two grown men between him and the eggs; one of them had a gun.

She looked up from the plate, wiping her face with the napkin. "I found them in the jungle, right when I was coming back…" she trailed off as if remembering something. ""Yes it is about the eggs. I just need you to keep them from being destroyed. That's the extent of your job. At least keep them safe until the Biosyn Company Helicopter comes back for extraction." She met his gaze, giving him a reassuring smile. "Tell the others that if they do this, they'll receive a similar share of the money." She must have caught his expression, because she set the plate back down on the bed. "I'll make sure to to my corporation you helped us, and make sure you are fully compensated for your efforts." She reached out a hand for him to shake and Baxter took it, realizing it was like a business deal.

"I'll tell them," he said. "I'll tell them." It was an odd thing for him to agree on so suddenly, although he had it in his mind that maybe he wouldn't tell them. He needed the money, and by rights that share should be his anyway. Well, at the very least he could give Dr. Guitierrez some of the money. Enough to pay his medical bills anyway, he did need a recommendation letter after this trip anyway. It wasn't as if he wanted the man to die either. "No sense introducing myself…but I always like to know who im dealing with." He smiled, taking the plate in his other hand. "Its just a nervous tick…" like hell it was, and he knew it.

"Oh sure," she said with a sigh. "Megan, Megan Stone." Her eyes danced with some fire behind them, that Baxter couldn't quite understand. "Don't worry Mr. Baxter, Biosyn always keeps its promises." She smiled. That charming smile. Really brought out her dimples, and Baxter had to shake his head because he was staring again. "But yes, tell me, they're going to try to 'interrogate' me aren't they," she said using air quotes and rolling her eyes. "Do I really seem that dangerous? Which one is going to come out first, the good cop or the bad cop?" Baxter didn't know whether she was being so talkative to hide her nervousness, or she didn't really care what she might say when they questioned her.

"I guess I'll be going then," he said turning for the door. "Yes, they might come in a few minutes… " He knew that she wouldn't say anything about the deal, there was too much riding on it for the both of them. However, other stuff like the original location of the eggs…that was trivial compared to the gains he hoped to see. He turned to see one last look at her, still sitting on the bed, the fading light of the afternoon coming in through the blinds. She smiled at him, and it seemed that was the only honest smile she'd done so far. Or at least it was genuine to him, not faked or forced. She wasn't even that much older then him… He shook his head turning away and knocking on the door three times.

Standing back he waited until he heard the sound of footsteps walking towards the door. The doorknob turned slowly, and he saw Muldoon staring at him. Baxter shrugged at him, and walked through the portal as the door slammed shut behind him. As he walked over to the kitchen, he heard them resume arguing. The man Levine was holding one of the eggs up gently, studying it intently. "There's absolutely no question about it," he was saying. "This is a [I]Velociraptor Mongoliensis[/I] egg. No doubt in my mind." That made the other man stiffen for some reason, asked him how the hell he knew. There was a long silence. Baxter leaned back on the kitchen counter holding his breath. "I encountered a nest…back on the other island."

"So what you're saying…" At this point Baxter tuned him out again it was getting boring. Only bits and pieces drifted into his general spatial awareness, his mind still distracted. "-The raptor that attacked you-" But that wasn't important right now. He was still thinking about the money, how badly he needed it to pay back those loans. The girl could probably handle herself in the interrogation, from what he'd seen she was obviously quite the cool customer. The job seemed easy enough as well, to safeguard the eggs. He listened again, still quite detached-"Had to be the one that laid them, ecosystem couldn't support…" He didn't hear what happened after that, but the two men seemed to realize something at the same time.

Muldoon and Levine both walked over to the door, entering one at a time. Muldoon at the entrance of the door, gun lowered slightly, and he could see Levine trying to start a conversation. Good luck with that pal, Baxter thought. He couldn't think of a harder person to crack. Only thing she would probably give them was the location of the eggs, probably not who she worked for. He was confident that it wouldn't ring any bells with those two, at least he was betting on it. Let them try it, see how far they got. But at the end of the day, that money was going to be his, and he kept a weather eye on the pack. It would be tricky, very tricky indeed. But from her demeanor, he was guessing that one of her compatriots had already dialed in a pickup chopper.

Good, away from this hellhole, let the military deal with that giant lizard. There was just one nagging thing on his mind, very faint now. He wondered how Dr. Guitierrez was doing now, since it didn't look like he would be able to go back anytime soon. He had a nagging feeling that he was forgetting something important, even as he took a bottle of beer out of the pantry. Was he? No, as far as Shaun Baxter figured, he had everything accounted for, every single variable. There was not a single damn thing that could go wrong. He sat down at the table, his thumb stoking the backpack strap aimlessly. Somewhere thunder rolled, and lightning flashed, the cacophony led by the incessant pounding of the rain.

He watched the interrogation begin, ready for the show.


	21. A Sound Of Thunder

It was a sound of thunder that caused Carter to look up from her patient. The rain would never stop it seemed, not stopping for anything. She didn't dare to leave the kitchen area, in case Marty's condition worsened. Given the circumstances, that seemed like a likely possibility, and she couldn't be sure. His breathing seemed regular even if it was still shallow and raspy. The wound wasn't likely to inflame anytime soon, though she did keep her eye on it just in case. She knew from experience that anything could happen with trauma patients, it was when you looked away that shit hit the fan. Right now she couldn't even leave or do anything, because Marty's condition might deteriorate.

She was also reflecting on those lizards, [I]no dinosaurs. Those dinosaurs outside.[/I] It seemed ridiculous in her head, but now the animal that had come out of the barn made sense. This wasn't really the time or place to be reveling in that realization though, and she was acutely aware of that. Maybe it wasn't safe to go outside, at least not without some sort of weapon. She'd looked out earlier, at the chicken coop. A damn bloody massacre, she'd thrown up in the sink without bothering to wash it off. It had to be these things that were responsible for the rash of infant deaths…. She didn't want to think about what they might do to an adult.

Getting up, she went over to the sink just to wash her face. This day seemed to be dragging along forever, if only because the others had still not returned. This was troubling, very much so. Well, she would give it a few more hours; hopefully they would make it back by then. Trouble was…. This place was just too remote, too quiet. She thought vaguely that maybe it had been a mistake to come out here again, to take that mission to Costa Rica. This place, it just rubbed off on you, everything came back to it. She would have to figure something out, eventually. How far was it to her jeep? She mentally calculated it in her head. Well the animals had fed so she might make it if she ran.

As she looked up she saw the trees began to shake near the fringe of the forest. Was it the wind? Somehow she doubted that, and her fears were confirmed when she saw that there were sections of the forest further down that did not sway. The most immediate thing that popped into her head was that the Dinosaur was back, that large one that had come out of the barn. Bobbie rushed to the door, and looked out the window. She could see the green lizards, emerging from the chicken coop. They must have rested against the side of the house earlier, that's why she couldn't see them earlier. Now it appeared that they were ready to go back into the village, or the jungle.

As one the lizards turned their heads and paused, staring at the same area that she was intent on. She couldn't hear all the way through the door but they seemed agitated somehow. Some kind of chirping noise, hopping around near the doorway area. This was bad; there was no way in hell she was getting out now. She turned around to see Marty still very much under the influence of morphine. Had that second dose been spaced too close together? She had no way of knowing without some accurate way of telling time. She would check on him in a minute, but first she had to see what those lizards were all agitated about now. She did not have to wait long though.

A figure ran out from the trees, and she did not have to strain to see what it was. It was a man, running for his life it seemed; she could recognize the camouflage pattern even from this distance. It was one of the parties that had forced her patient to open the barn, unleashing the horror inside. Carter's hand flew to the door, ready to put her weight against it if he tried to get in. That only lasted a split second though as she drew it back in horror…what had she just been thinking? It would be unthinkable for a Doctor to consider even for a second allow a man suffer serious bodily harm or death. She frowned, distracting herself by returning to the window. The green lizards were scattering at the man's approach, or were they trying to circle him?

She saw her kitchen knife on the counter, and grabbed the hilt, and a cloth towel. She just placed them closer to her, for ease of access. Returning to her original position she saw the man was closer now, and the lizards were actually running towards him. He was still too far to interfere, and if she opened the door now, some might get in…if they weren't afraid of a grown man? They were gaining, gaining, nipping at his very heels. She wanted to shout, scream at the scenery. The man was distracted for a moment, reaching into his waistband. She saw the outline of a pistol, and she partially ducked to avoid any crossfire. However just as the man raised his gun, the lizards backed off.

She heard a roar, something that chilled her to her very bones. She risked a peek, and heard absolute quiet. The lizards were backing off, like they were scared. Properly scared. She couldn't put her finger on it but this was as unnerving as hell. The man also was standing still, walking forward, and the lizards seeming to back away as he approached. There was no disturbance at all, even among the trees. That was where she stopped cold, even among the trees. She should be able to see the animal, she realized. It was getting late in the afternoon and she thought maybe it could be hiding in the shadows. It was just a thought in her mind but she found the switch on the side to turn the porch lights on.

The lights came on, a bit brighter then she'd expected. Wherever this guys generator was it must still have most of its power. The area between the house and the barn was illuminated, bathing the ground in light. The man shielded his eyes from the light but Bobbie wasn't really worried about that. No it was rather what was behind him she was worried about. It seemed that the forest started shifting a bit, Just that particular section, and she could see a bit of an outline… Her eyes widened as she realized what it was. The lizards realized at the same time as well, as they abruptly fled in all directions.

The animal shifted, it's eight feet of bulk changing colours even as it moved. From one second a perfect imitation of the forest, it was now reverting back to its original color scheme. It was the first time she got a proper look at the animal, the previous time she had been too panicked to really pay attention to anything at all. But now she could really see it. It was heavily built, the jaws slavering with sharp teeth. She was no expert but she could see that it could easily take down a grown man; the pistol would be next to useless next to its bulk. This was her chance; the lights temporarily dazed the animal.

She flung open the door, just covering her eyes against the sudden glare. "In here!" She called out, knowing that the large dinosaur wouldn't be standing there forever. The man seemed to realize this as well, and made a dash for the door, scattering the lizards in his wake. He pulled out the gun, firing a few times at the Carnotaur behind him. Unfortunately this seemed to have the effect of waking the animal out of its stupor. It shook its head, roaring in pain and agitation. Taking a step forward, it lowered its head, and Bobbie realized it was preparing to charge. The man was still running, but he wouldn't be able to run fast enough would he?

She stepped back a bit, fumbled with the light switch. The animal was really close to the running man, would overtake him in a few steps. She flicked the switch on and off, as fast as she could. The animal had some kind of camouflage ability she saw; the lights would confuse its ability. The lights flickered on and off, and she could see the animal slowing, but not giving up its pursuit entirely. The man increased his speed, looking back to see it gaining on him. Bobbie was frustrated, besides the light switch there did not seem to be a whole lot she could really do here. She saw that the man was closer to the house now, could make it in a few seconds if he was fast enough.

Some of the lizards were hopping around by the sides she noticed, almost as if they were waiting for something. Scavengers, she thought to herself, who would finish off the meal after the larger dinosaur had made his kill. A few hopped up and down, perilously close to where she was standing. She kicked out to the side, to try to shoo them away, but they just hopped out of the way, like they weren't scared. Ah hell, she thought to herself as she saw the charging dinosaur, heading straight at her. Well there was no way she was going to let someone die on her watch, not after the oath she'd made in medical school. She stepped out of the door a few paces, holding her hand out.

The man's face was a perfect picture of pure terror and he reached out his free hand as well. Bobbie Carter almost tripped up, as she felt something run past her. Damn, probably one or two of the lizards. But there was really no time to think as she grabbed his hand, staring in horror at the animal behind him. There was no time, no time at all. She pulled back with her hand, dragging him along through the doorway. She stumbled and fell against the kitchen counter, the knife bouncing back and falling into the sink. The man let go of her hand as soon as he crossed the door, grabbing the door and slamming it shut. Immediately after there was a loud thump, as they both heard the door creak on its hinges.

But it held, and it held well. The animal roared in frustration at its missing prey. As Carter looked outside, she saw the remaining lizard-things scattering before the attention of the large dinosaur turned to them. But the animal didn't move, she could see it just standing in front of the house as if trying to figure something out. It roared again, sending another chill down her spine as she realized how close that had been. She'd almost gotten herself killed, and the man as well. The animal walked to the side of the house, looking for some kind of entrance. But there was no way something that size could get in she thought…no way in hell. She breathed a silent sigh of relief that it hadn't resulted in any deaths.

However she was only able to relax one second, before she heard something else that stopped her cold. A chirping noise, much like…Bobbie Carter turned around, looked near the center of the room. There was a shout, she realized it was Marty, starting to wake up. He was feebly putting his hands up, too weak to even get up from the table. One of the lizard-things was on top of him, trying to bite him. It must've gotten in through the door when she'd been distracted… No time to think about that either, she thought. Marty was yelling something about a 'compy' or some shit, she couldn't make it out. Not that it was all that important, not right now anyway.

Her hand dove for the counter, realized the knife wasn't there. It was in the sink, which was still wet and slippery from when she'd washed her face. Her hand dove blindly into the sink, a cry of pain escaping her as she momentarily caught a bit of the blade's edge. Dammit, she would've had to be careful, but she couldn't. Because there was no time. She scrambled for it, trying to block out the sound of Marty shouting in her head. The knife was very slippery; she couldn't get a good grip. Or even when she did, the edge of the blade squealed along the side of the sink causing it to veer sharply to the side. The hell with this, she thought and grabbed the cloth towel, using it to grip the hilt securely.

She stepped past the man who seemed frozen, as if not understanding what was happening. Marty's words echoed in her mind. "Damn, Compy!" Her patient could not even fend off that one lizard in his state… "Damn ten year nightmare!" It didn't make any sense to her, but everything began to move in slow motion suddenly. She reached out, was at Marty's side in an instant. She grabbed the Lizard by the neck, completely caught it off guard. It squealed in her hand, snapping and biting in an effort to force her to release. This only caused her to tighten her grip, as sweat rolled down her forehead. The knife was raised high, ready to plunge in the animal.

"What the hell are you doing?" The voice came from right behind her…before she knew it she was her hand was being dragged back, unable to resist ovr the other man's superior strength. She grunted as he shook her arm, the cloth on the hilt making her grip on the knife slip. She heard it clang to the floor under her, and someone kicked it, sending it skidding across the room. Damn, damn, damn! But she still held the Compy in her hand, even as it bit and nipped her repeatedly to try to force her to let go. She bit her lip to try to forget the pain but it was hard. Especially since she felt her nerves start to go slack where the animal had bitten her. Some sort of muscle relaxant perhaps?

"Let…me…go!" She yelled, not believing herself that this was the way the man showed gratitude for letting him in the house. She felt herself being roughly pushed to the side, letting go of the animal as she did so. It leaped from her hands onto the kitchen counter, chirping tauntingly as it did so. From somewhere outside she could hear the Carnotaur roar, as it made futile attempts to find a way inside. The man stepped over her, grabbing the animal in his turn. Holding his pistol he whipped it with the butt of the weapon. The animal squealed at first, but only fleetingly. She heard a small whimper as she got up, its head lolling to one side, as it lay unconscious.

She felt dizzy for some reason, and dove for her bag. A muscle relaxant… it had to be something like that. She reached, looking for some kind of stimulant, anything really to keep her lucid. Closest thing she found was morphine, and she looked at her fingers again. Some of the lizard bite marks had been right where the knife had cut her skin. So it was probably in her veins by now. Was that how the lizard made its kills? She grabbed the cloth towel and sat down on the chair as she began to try to treat herself. Vaguely she noticed the man picking the prone animal up, and disappearing into the bedroom. Probably to put it in some hall closet or something.

Not that she cared much, at least not now. She felt very tired, and she gripped the edge of the table. She saw Marty breathing heavily, his heart rate must be going extremely fast, she thought. Well so was hers, except her head was just telling her she needed a rest, that everything would be all right if she just went to sleep. Probably the open wound, the saliva in the open wound sped up the effects of the narcotic. She found the only stimulus rather easily, one of her last remaining syringes of Morphine. There was no choice really; she had to be alert to be able to treat her patient properly. Biting the cap off with her teeth, she rolled her sleeve up all the way to the elbow. Gritting her teeth, she inserted about half the syringe contents.

Immediately it began to feel a little better as the morphine started to work on her system. Okay so it was a muscle relaxant as well, but hopefully this dose would be enough to override or counteract whatever the hell venom had been in that lizard's mouth. Dr. Roberta Carter blinked, daubing her wounds with the cloth as she heard a door slam. The man was coming back, this time empty handed. He wiped his hands and sat down, taking his gun out of his waistband. They stared at each other for the longest time, but there was no quiet, not with the constant roaring outside from the frustrated dinosaur. No, there was a tension here, she met his eyes, and in them she saw something that scared her.

There was no emotion in these eyes, even as he smiled, that charming smile. A shiver ran down her spine, and she planted her feet firmly on the floor. "It seems we haven't been introduced properly," Ed James said taking out a cigarette and sticking it in his mouth. "That's a real shame, a damn shame." He leaned over, staring at her patient mockingly, and handing out a cigarette as if for Marty to take. Marty stared at him, the same disgust in Carter's eyes met in his own. The man was unfazed however, taking the cigarette back with no reaction whatsoever. He took a few puffs on his cigarette as they both listened to the not so distant crashes of the large animal circling the building.

Outside, there was a sound of thunder.

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	22. Six Foot Turkey

Levine wiped the sweat from his brow as he stood in the doorway of the room. It seemed an hour had passed by rather quickly, the fastest hour he had ever experienced. Also one of the most unproductive in history, he thought to himself, as he glanced back at the woman in the room. She returned his glare, slightly bemused with the faint smile on his face. Still like that after an hour of questioning… he didn't understand it, nor did he wish to. He looked back at Muldoon, noticed the hard look in the man's eye, and swallowed. So yes they were equally frustrated… just didn't have an answer as of yet. Muldoon was the first one to break the silence, taking a deep breath.

"We're getting nothing this way," He said tersely. "But I think we both know at this point that they are not really Costa Ricans or affiliated with them in any way." He turned to the woman thinking hard. "Perhaps our line of questioning was too direct, we spent most of it asking about the eggs…" Levine realized with a smile where this was heading and he turned away and faced back towards the woman. She must've seen the new look in his eye because she stood up straight, as if suddenly uncomfortable. But Muldoon was still talking, and he'd turned as well. Levine realized that it might have been his plan all along to draw things out like this.

"Because she actually works for Biosyn." They paused, looked at each other when they realized they had spoken at the same time. "Yes," It was becoming clearer now, of course Biosyn would be involved. Levine remembered hearing from Malcom about Nedry's theft on the original island, and the death of Howard King still haunted his dreams at night." You people tried twice to get InGen technology but it didn't work out did it?" He found himself getting angry, because he realized people's lives had been put in danger for corporate greed, not once but twice before. "Listen," he said slowly "we're not the police and technically no one even knows these eggs exist but…. We're putting these eggs back right where you found them and you can just…"

Levine's outburst was interrupted by the sound of her laughing softly. "Excuse me, Richard…." She said, apparently enjoying watching him freeze up at the mention of his name. Muldoon stepped forward to say something but then…"You can stop right there you drunk bastard," She was standing up now, looking out towards the window at the fence. She seemed to have changed, she was no longer smiling but her stare was one of fury. "Don't you dare try to claim the moral high ground, you were trying to exploit the animals just as much as we were…maybe more so." She took a step forward nodding her head. "If any of you clowns try to detain me, I'll sue your asses in court for unlawful detainment," she smiled a bit triumphantly.

"But we aren't in court now, Clever Girl-" Muldoon started to say but then stopped. Somewhere in the distance there was a sound of thunder, and a flash of light. Levine and Muldoon covered their eyes but it was enough to see the bolt of lightening hit the fence. The sensor visible from the window exploded in a shower of sparks, and in this rain they could see the electrical current run through the fence. "Oh shit," Muldoon said, as he ran past the woman and to the window. Levine wanted to follow him, but he stayed where he was, mainly to block her way out. "The fence is busted," Muldoon replied as he turned away from the window. "Happens every time there's a major storm…"

There was a snarl somewhere a distance away and they all turned their heads. "What was that?" the woman said, her face suddenly ashen. Levine mentally noted that for future reference. She was not as cool as she could appear. He could see beads of sweat run down her forehead. The snarl came again, closer now, and he could see the brush past the fence moving. Somehow he knew that was going to happen, no matter what they did it was always going to happen once they got outside the fence, well at least after this woman had stolen the eggs…. Possibly she didn't even know what she was stealing from. That was always a bad idea, one that Lewis Dodgeson had tried, to…. limited success.

"We have no time here," Levine blurted out just as he realized what was about to happen. "I estimate we have less then five minutes before it gets inside…" Actually it was less then that, but he didn't want to panick people. Certainly not this woman, who knew what she would try in desperation? "Do you have a safe room?" he asked across the room to Muldoon. Surely this man would have figured on a contingency such as this somewhere down the line, having thought to enclose his property with an electric fence and bar the windows. But he was sure of one thing, that if there was a weakness, at any point in the compound, the raptor would find a way to exploit it, and get inside.

"In fact I do," Muldoon said as he walked by them. His face looked old and tired as he gestured for them to follow. He picked up his shotgun and nodded to the kid who was still reclining on the chair. Actually Baxter was still a bit sleepy and so he had to be nudged awake by Levine. "Come quickly," Muldoon said softly as they all looked out the living room window. Sure enough there was a dark form scaling the gate, it would be inside the compound in a matter of seconds. Wordlessly they all followed him as he led them down another hallway, stopping at a door. Levine and Baxter at the rear, though he wondered vaguely why the kid was still holding on to that backpack.

Of course it could be that the Raptor would be less reluctant to attack the person holding the eggs for fear of breaking them. That was one reason but…he found himself distracted yet again by the sound of Muldoon opening a door to the side. "Stay here and watch the girl," he said coldly, his eyes seemingly distant and busy. Levine couldn't argue with that, especially not in a situation like this. He blinked as he saw inside the room, careful to make sure that he still had his eye on the woman at all times. Still something was bothering him. She'd clearly looked at their files, been following up on them. That spoke to more then just an ordinary Biosyn Agent, though he thought he knew…

Not the time or place and with everyone agitated he didn't want to get her panicky. Especially as he could see what was inside the room that Muldoon was so sincere about. It was an armory, and entire walk-in closet filled floor to ceiling with guns, ammunition, and body armour. The selection was impressive, but he saw the man holding a magazine and an odd-shaped gun, inserting the magazine and sliding back the hammer. Tossing the Uzi to him, Levine barely caught it, and he was surprised at how heavy it was. He stepped to the side as the kid moved in front, and the Muldoon stared at him for the longest time. Even though everyone could hear the sound of the front door unlocking it was as if Muldoon was trying to think.

"I'm going to regret this but…." The man dumped a Glock into the kid's outstretched hand, and looked back. There was a slow chill, and a door slammed somewhere as if drawn by the wind. The woman stepped forward, but Muldoon held out his hand to stop her. "We're not that desperate or stupid woman," he said, and his eyes were bloodshot. Was the alcohol getting to him already? Levine realized that if Muldoon was going to get into one of these moods they might waste valuable time. With an angry raptor in an enclosed environment, making a stand here was not advisable. The shots might richohet and there was a risk of collateral damage. Too many guns…that just kept echoing in his mind.

"We can't stay here," Levine said tugging at Muldoon's arm with his free hand. "Surely there is a back way somewhere?" He could hear the sound of things crashing in the living room. Right now it was still confused and probably perplexed by the abundance of human scent in the house. That would buy them valuable time. To his surprise, Muldoon relented and let go of the woman's arm, which she drew back as if offended. The man nodded, pointing towards the back, which was actually confirmed Levine's suspicions that there had to be some sort of back entrance here. He lifted his Uzi cautiously, knowing that the kickback to this would be a hell of a ride. Times like these he really missed the rifles he used back on Sorna…

He found himself running at the back of the pack, hearing the crashing as some large weight landed on the living room table. Levine didn't dare look back; he knew just how close it must be. But Muldoon was somewhere in the front and that man knew where the back exit was. What could he say but this place was a damn sight better fortified then a straw convenience store on an offshore island. It struck him that he didn't really know how to fire the gun, and hopefully it would have to be used as a last resort. He would dearly regret having to kill such an animal even in self-defense, if it would damage the ecosystem in some way.

Muldoon opened another door to the side, and they all found themselves in the pouring rain. "Now what?" Levine asked, realizing in the moment how that sounded. Petty and whining, but he thought he had a valid point here. How were they any safer outside then they were in here? He knew that door wouldn't keep the raptor out, not if it particularly wanted to follow them. In the wake of his comment, everybody turned to look at Muldoon, their eyes equally questioning. There had to be some sort of plan… Levine thought of the Hummer, realized that it might be too far. They would never be able to make it before the raptor caught up to them. Especially since no one in the group was particularly proficient in firearms except Muldoon.

Then he saw that Muldoon seemed confident, even as the rain poured over the brim of his hat. "The plan?" He smiled wistfully. "Drive like hell." As the man walked around the corner of the compound, they all saw what he meant. There was a ten-year-old Jeep Wrangler slightly covered in mud and rust. But enough to see the basic colors it had once been. It was sandy beige with two thick red stripes, one on each side of the door. Stenciled on the side was the legend '10' in beige, and on the door was a circular logo very faded…. But Levine could make out the image; he'd seen it many times as promotional image while searching the InGen Computers for information about Site B.

"Are you going to get in, or are you just going to gawk at it?" Muldoon said sounding highly amused. Levine shook his head, wondering why he was even paying that much attention to the jeep in the first place. It was no time to be thinking of that… The man opened the driver's side and removed the keys from his front pocket. They could all hear the sound of the door opening, and so everyone else got in as well. Levine set his gun on the side, not bothering to put on his seat belt. The kid was looking nervous and the woman…. Stone that was her name now that he remembered it. Megan Stone. She was holding onto the seat, looking back nervously.

There was another snarl and everybody froze. The raptor could clearly be seen in the lights from the compound. In the pouring rain and at full height, Levine felt very vulnerable, even in the presence of all these guns. He grabbed his Uzi quickly, even though he knew that it wouldn't be as effective in such a close range. It was a good thing the jeep had a cloth top; it would at least give them a chance here. The raptor paused as it sized up the situation, seeing the four people in the car, apparently helpless. Muldoon was trying to start the car, turning the key over and over again swearing under his breath as he did so. "Start, you son of a bitch damn you…"

With a satisfied scream, the raptor reared and set off at a run straight at them. He felt a strong pinch on his shoulder and realized it was Stone, whose face was all pale. Levine swatted her hand away, "I guess you can tell Rossiter where the animals are now," he said dryly and without emotion. It was satisfying to see her eyes widen, but she only looked briefly, as the raptor leaped. Just then the engine started, and Muldoon hit the gas. Everybody was thrust back into their seats as the Jeep swerved to the right. Levine was caught unawares, and his Uzi dropped to the floor. He tried to get it but the weapon was bouncing around the floor right now.

There was a scraping sound and Muldoon and Levine looked at each other. Then he looked up to see a claw starting to tear through the fabric. Not today, Levine thought to himself as he leaned over to the backseat, and snatched the Glock out of the kid's hand. At the very least he could give the raptor a bit of a nasty sting. He didn't care where the jeep was going, so long as they could shake the raptor. Actually he had a bit of a plan forming where they got to the Hummer, their odds were probably better in there. But was there really a back gate to this place? He took one look at Muldoon's face, saw the bloodshot eyes and realized there wasn't. Surely he wasn't going to….

"Hold on to your butts," Muldoon grinned, and Levine was half-sure he heard the clink of bottles rolling around on the floor somewhere in the backseat. Oh shit, he thought to himself. He made a dive for the wheel but didn't make it in time as he saw the fence rising up to meet them. He grabbed the seat and held on tightly as they made impact, the fence breaking at the force of several tons hitting it at thirty miles an hour. He looked behind him as they swerved yet again, and noticed the section was completely flattened. But the raptor hung on he could see that right in the side mirror. The snarling face of the raptor was reflected, right above the stenciled words 'Objects in mirror are larger then they appear'.

He flinched as a claw suddenly tore at him, bouncing harmlessly off the plastic film of the window. It snarled again, drool slavering from its jaws and began climbing back up the car. With a quick look back he could see the kid and Stone staring at the animal, their faces pale. She was holding the kid's hand now, squeezing it in her terror. He noticed the kid didn't exactly move his hand away. Well they were sort of the same age, so he could figure that. Still… he took deep breaths as he raised the glock up towards the cloth top. The depression on it was visible now that the animal was once again on top.

They were in a small clearing just slightly next to the compound now, and they could see the whole village from here. From this height he could see for the first time clearly another small hill right across on the other side of the village. A large barn stood atop that hill, it's doors clearly wide open. There was a shape…he couldn't make it out, but he realized he shouldn't be able to see something clear so far away. That meant… But they had more immediate problems, that was to say the raptor currently trying to get in the jeep. He took another breath as he shifted again in his seat. If the raptor made a sizable hole…. He had his eye on the Spas-12 that was sitting right next to Muldoon, but it was almost too far to reach.

There was a low gurgle and for a second Levine looked up confused. Then he realized it wasn't the raptor. Muldoon was revving the Jeep up, putting it in fourth gear. The roads were slick and muddy, and the only way out really was…downhill. They were going downhill. The raptor screeched, and there was a sound of fabric tearing. Levine lifted the gun, but again the car took off just as he did so.

The edge of the slope was coming rapidly, but this time he was able to see it better then he had when they'd run through the gate. He closed his eyes as the car dipped down, and then back up again. He didn't think the transmission was going to make it, and several times it didn't even feel like they were on solid ground. However they were going down, bumpy as the ride may be. There was a thump! And he heard a screech, as they all looked backwards, the raptor landed perfectly on the ground, but was then lost to view by the pouring rain. But the Jeep did not stop, not until it reached level ground again.

And then they were back in the village. "Hell of a night," Levine muttered under his breath.


	23. Flesh and Stone

Muldoon turned around, satisfied that they were no longer being chased. Of course you couldn't discount anything with these animals. Especially the raptors, persistent little bastards. If only Hammond had listened to him, his advice that they should all have been destroyed… well with luck it had given up for now at least, put some of the pressure off of them. He looked at the gas tank, was convinced that it would get them a fair distance away from the village, at least to exit to a well traveled road at least. He lowered the brim of his hat, as he watched the rain being wiped off of the windshield, a grim look on his face. "Where did you say Guitierrez was again?" He asked the kid looking at his face in the rearview mirror.

"Up near the barn," the kid said his face still deathly pale. Just great, Muldoon said as he shifted the jeep in gear. If he was really injured, then the doctor would be with him. That meant two additional bodies they had to carry around with them. He really didn't think that the Jeep would hold two more people. But he turned his head and stared at Levine, the gears in his head thinking quickly. There had to be another car, he remembered the Doctor had one and Levine must've…. Shit that was it, he thought as he started the car again. It was a little muddy in places but Muldoon could see from here the track where the mud had been disturbed.

"Going to find your car first," he said as a way of explanation to the others, "We get to your car and then we decide what to do from there." So the track led to the bar, that was clear and plain enough, and now that he wasn't so stressed, the trip went rather fast. He turned the corner, and he smiled. It was a Hummer, the sort they had at expensive rental places. He'd like to see a raptor try to break into that, and it would fit them all. It would be a better choice actually…Muldoon slowed to a stop just to the side of the hummer. For a long moment nobody moved. The hummer was there all right, and he could see Levine's hands holding the keys.

But he wasn't getting out of the car. Everybody's eyes were glued to the windows. The rain was coming down hard, but not hard enough to hide the scene. The door to the bar was ajar, and it was obvious what was keeping it from shutting, even as the wind blew heavily through the village. It was a slumped form; barely recognizable really except for the camouflage clothes it had been wearing. But…. even that would've been okay, he could've told himself the raptor could've gotten it anytime. Surrounding the body, extending halfway to the hummer were small green forms, hopping up and down excitedly. Muldoon remembered the last time he'd seen them. The Compys that had run from Hammond's body as he approached.

Megan Stone was pissed as she stood outside in the freezing rain. She should've never said anything about knowing the man. Well it was easy to put two things together, namely that they were both wearing the same uniform. Her second mistake she knew had been to try to deny that. It really was cold out here, and she had nothing cover herself with, the rain soaking right through her t-shirt. The kid was right behind her, Baxter or something. Holding a Glock to her back, and carrying the backpack as well. Of course, she was the most 'expendable' person in the group, who would give a damn. Who would give…

Levine and Muldoon were watching from the jeep, their weapons drawn. She could feel their eyes on her, judging her. Frankly she couldn't care less what they thought of her, it was their own problem if they had a negative opinion. Still it was very discomforting having those guns at your back, and the hopping lizard-things right in front of you. But there were two of them right now, perhaps enough to frighten the lizards away? She hoped so, especially since she could see what had happened to Jefferson now that she was closer. It was not a pretty sight, and it sent a shiver up her spine, beyond what this driving rain was already doing. She looked away, but the image was already burned into her brain.

She'd never really liked him, although it was hard to say if anyone deserved that fate. What the lizards hadn't gotten, they'd certainly made a fair attempt at. His clothes were riddled with bite marks. There was nothing-recognizable left about his face; they'd gotten almost all of it by now. But somewhere under that corpse lay the satellite phone, the one with re-chargeable batteries. And…she hoped, Jefferson's gun. Still, it wasn't going to be easy just trying to approach it. She saw how the lizards had noticed their presence, were even now reacting to it. The sound of chirping filled her ears, like a chorus on a Sunday morning in the park.

As she took a hesitant step forward, some of the lizards back away, but others in the small group just stayed where they were, watching, tilting their heads a bit. It gave her the creeps, like they were not scared. But she looked at them, then back at the body, noticing how no large wound was on Fred's face, only those that could be attributable to the Compy's. So he'd underestimated them, and he'd been on his own. But….Stone heard the sound of Baxter stepping forward, as he followed her. The poor man had almost made it out, she mused to herself. Cornered in an enclosed space, he probably had no chance. A few seconds later she was standing above his corpse, looking back at Baxter, the Glock still firmly leveled on her.

She'd thought long and hard before going on this expedition, it had never been a frivolous spur-of the moment thing for her. No, she'd talked at length with Rossiter about it, about being one of the teams that could mobilize if any intelligence was heard. Her boss has been very reluctant to let her go, after all she was his personal assistant and had very capably managed his affairs for years. It had taken some persuasion; Meagan had seen that this sort of opportunity would advance her career, if she managed to come out of it intact. She wasn't the porcelain secretary that Rossiter had imagined her as, even in his own private thoughts. No, this was for herself, so that she could make something of her life.

She knelt down slowly, watching the lizards back off. She knew what they were of course; the team had spent many hours in preparation for such a mission as this. From reading stolen courtroom material and interviewing witnesses, it had become clear that there had been some escapes from the park, and perhaps the offshore profuction facility as well. It was just unclear how Biosyn was going to handle that, as there seemed to be no efficient way of capturing them, without drawing the attention of the government. It was determined that the Ismaloya Mountains where this village was situated would be a probable location, as it had likely been the first region of dissemination for escaped animals.

She turned the body in her hands, grimacing in distaste as she did so. She tried to touch as little of his exposed skin as possible, preferring to push him by the uniform. Great deal on those uniforms by the way, Rossiter had been the one to think of buying Army surplus, one of the few good ideas from that man. The satphone was right there, it hadn't gotten wet from the rain due to the fact that Jefferson's body had fallen right on it. Well at least that was one fortunate outcome from it. She looked at the flickering light, meaning the battery was on its last life. Dumbass didn't even bother to turn off the phone? A faint grin appeared on her face, as she smiled.

Baxter wasn't amused, not in the slightest. This girl was still kneeling down by the corpse, the phone by her hand. Claimed she needed to do it right there, since it would be impossible for her to carry the phone over to the car without getting it wet. Such a load of bullshit, but Baxter went along with it. Mostly because he still felt the weight of the eggs in his backpack. It would all pay off in the end, he thought to himself, he just had to know how to play his cards. If he could pull this off, he wouldn't have any loans to worry about ever. What unnerved him was the green lizards, hopping up and down, sort of distracted him from paying attention to the girl.

Damn, he wished he could hear what she was saying, According for her she was calling for a rescue airlift for an injured man, she'd no doubt heard the noise about Marty's injury in the car. But Baxter had his doubts; there was always a chance that she was talking in code to her bosses, again not that he cared. But if he wanted to get close enough to hear, he would have to get closer to the lizards, and the yawning mouth of the bar. Of course that was it, the Lizards had come out of the bar, which was what had given him bad vibes earlier. Must've been one of those damn lizards in there with him that first time.

The Glock felt heavy as he kept his arm outstretched, and he moved it to his other hand. Sure he was a righty, but it didn't matter how you pulled the trigger didn't it? Only thing he was sure he was going to shoot though was one of those damn lizards, if they got too close to his leg. He noticed several of them backing away from him as he waved his gun at them. [I]Yeah that's right you bastards better run[/I], he thought to himself his confidence artificially inflated. Maybe if the girl was taking too long he would just go over there and grab the phone. Might look bad in front of other people but according to the experts in the jeep, or at least Mr. Game Warden, it was too risky to chance otherwise.

"I don't like this," Levine muttered to himself as he stepped out of the car, holding his car keys in hand. The idea was that they go into separate cars on their way up to the barn, one person alone and three people in the second car. How else otherwise were they going to secure the safety of the driver in the one that the woman was in? Though Levine was still troubled, even if the woman was a Biosyn agent. Holding a gun to a defenceless woman caused all sorts of conflicts in his mind, even though he knew she was trying to exploit the animals. He still had his watch and had timed her call. Too long, he thought to himself. There was no way a rescue call was taking that long.

What else was taking too long? That question lodged itself in his head as he furrowed his brow. There seemed to be something else he was missing, that didn't really make sense. The Compys might be backing away because there were now two people directly near them, with two others in the car. But they were not scared of the humans, staring at them curiously, even as the girl had walked past. There was a simplicity about this that he found extremely troubling, most troubling indeed. He got his keys out, stood right beside the front door and unlocked it. Just as he was about to get in he realized what it was that had been eluding him. It stopped him cold.

Something he'd dismissed in the back of his mind while they were driving. Watching the pouring ran go by, trickling down the windshield. He'd been so self-absorbed in the problem of the Biosyn agent that he had completely forgotten it. The back door to the bar, it had been flapping open in the breeze. And before he had just put it to the back of his mind, something inconsequential and unimportant. Until now at least... Levine backed out, noticed the kid was distracted with the Compys, and the woman was leaning against the exterior of the bar. The Compys that was it…they hadn't reacted in that way when he and Thorne had approached them on the island. There must be some other factor. He realized what this was as he looked up, the shout forming on his lips as he ran forward.

"Yes, Mr. Rossiter I have the situation under control," Meagan was saying as she stared out at the pouring rain."The package we were meant to pick up was a bit…. Unexpected," That had been the least of it to her mind. "If you want to do a pickup I suggest you bring more people, send another chopper in with guns. It's a large carnivore, I'm gussing at least eight or nine feet tall." The Carnotaur was still what they needed, what they'd come here for initially. Attempting to capture or kill a live raptor was too dangerous, and would require organized tactics. A Compy would be nice, but would barely be worth the effort probably. "I do have something to show for it," she said to reassure her boss. "Eggs, authentic dinosaur eggs. You can choose to hatch one, sacrifice the other one for testing."

She noticed Levine was agitated for some reason, moving away from the Hummer as he approached the kid. She wasn't sure what he was anxious about, but she didn't care. "There should be a clearing for a helicopter a bit down the road," she continued, knowing that a direct landing in the village might be tricky with that Carnotaur rampaging somewhere in the jungle. "I can arrange a pickup within an hour or two…" She bit her lip and looked back at the jeep, still remembering the barn opening. "Bring a stretcher as well, we may have at least one injured party." She clicked the phone off for now; satisfied that she'd gotten her message across. Rossiter had sounded very pleased, very much so indeed. Her promotion was all but assured.

She was going to be grateful when they got back to a city. She could get out of these grimy clothes and back to her normal clothes. Should still be in that hotel in San Jose'. After all these guys were deluding themselves if they thought she was going to just sit there and go peacefully. She'd been sort of disappointed that Jefferson's gun had apparently gone missing but…James was still out there. Even Rossiter never discounted James when it came to resiliency or sneakiness. The man could be a damn cockroach at times, even if he was apparently as annoying. She looked up, seeing the two men approaching her slowly. It was going to be something stupid about handing the phone over wasn't it? She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Don't move!" Levine shouted, and she noticed Muldoon was now out of the car. What the hell….she turned around slowly, realizing this wasn't something ordinary. Out of that black portal of darkness a reptilian head emerged, its jaws bared in a sinister imitation of a smile. The Raptor sniffed the corpse once, and lifted it's head to stare at them. It snarled once, and stepped forward. Meagan took a step back, shocked by seeing it in full for the first time up close. The Jeep ride had been bad enough, and she knew by reading the courtroom logs just how deadly these could be. She wished she had a gun right now, as the animal stepped forward again, not completely out of the bar.

She didn't hesitate, but turned and ran. If she could make it to the Hummer and shut the door she could stand a chance. However the raptor was too close, and she was relatively far away. She could hear the men shouting something, but she couldn't quite make it out. Her ears were filled with the sound of its screeches, as it ran after her. Levine and Baxter were backing up as well, their faces pale. She was almost at it, well the kid had a gun, he could take a shot at the animal, and she hoped he could. If not…she didn't dare to look back, because she knew how close the animal was. She could feel it's hot breath on her back, the spittle from its slavering jaws as they snapped shut.

Baxter was completely and utterly bewildered. The raptor was charging at him straight on and he was expected to get a good shot. At least that's what the man was screaming in his ear, to shoot it. Didn't get to ask him a second time because then the man was running back to the car, probably to get the gun. But he didn't have a good shot that was the problem; the raptor was right beside the woman. He couldn't hit one without hitting the other at this point. He took a deep breath and aimed down the sights, ready to hit the target. It was going to be a tricky shot but he could do it if he tried… He was so concentrated; he didn't notice her barreling into him in her panic sending them both sprawling on the floor.

The gun was knocked from his hand, landing a few feet apart from them. But he could see the raptor tugging on her boot trying to drag her backwards. Her face looked desperate, he could see the fear there, plain and naked fear. He could just reach the gun…just a few more…. But then he felt a weight on his backpack. The girl was trying to grab his backpack, get any form of purchase to help herself up. It was keeping him from grabbing the gun, he was never going to be able to grab it, and Levine couldn't come back in time he could see that. He would become a second victim, torn apart by the raptors claws.

Meagan wasn't particularly conscious of having grabbed the backpack in the first place. She was just desperate; to get up, get out of there. She suddenly found in that instant that she didn't really care about the eggs, at least not right now. She was too young to die; there was so much she still had to live for… "Shoot it!" She yelled to the men standing by the jeep, her voice choked with a sobbing gasp. She was not purposely trying to drag the kid along with her, in fact something in the back of her mind was telling her to help him up. Getting killed wasn't worth it, this wasn't what she'd signed up to do… She saw the kid reaching for the gun, but not quite there yet. He turned around, and she saw a strange determination on his face, that scared her.

She was still being tugged backwards, but somehow she still heard his words, so slow and low on purpose so the others couldn't hear. "I'm keeping the money for myself bitch," she blinked not understanding for a brief second. Right now, Meagan would've consented to anything, if someone could just save her life. She started to say okay, he could keep the money, every cent. To hell with the money, all she wanted to do was get out of Costa Rica and never look back. She let go, trying to get a purchase on the ground instead. So she wasn't looking when the kick came. It was a strong blow to her shoulder, the sheer unexpectedness of it adding to the pain and shock.

Utterly taken by surprise, Meagan Stone fell back onto the mud. "You bastard…" she began, feeling hot tears run down her face. She started to get up, but then felt a large weight descend on her. The animal was on top of her and the world began to move in slow motion. Its hot breath was coming down right on her head, and her terror was extreme. She tried again for purchase, but the slippery mud refused to let her up. She felt a searing pain suddenly, and her hands went limp. Her face fell against the muddy ground, and she briefly wondered why she couldn't move her body. She could see the kid standing up now, the other man tugging at him to move. It didn't really matter now did it?

She smiled faintly, thinking about the people she left behind, wondering if anyone would ever know… The only good thing about having her spine severed was that she felt no pain as the bones of her neck crunched loudly.

And then Blackness.

Nothing.

Levine had to drag Baxter away from the scene, as the Raptor's attention focused on its kill. The kid seemed in a daze, the Glock in one hand, and the Sat phone in the other. Muldoon was already at the jeep, and he ushered Baxter into the backseat. Grimly he looked at the Warden, and saw the man pursing his lips. Telling him, nothing they could do. Only thing possible was get out before the raptor's attention was diverted. He climbed into the Jeep himself, staring out the passenger window as Muldoon started the car. "Drive like hell," he said as if detached, it was that he knew he couldn't be seeing this… "Drive like hell." They had to pick up Marty, get him away from this hellhole.

Before they were all dead.


	24. Emergence

Levine took a deep breath as they drove away from the grisly scene, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. That should've never happened, he should've been the one guarding the girl instead of the kid. It wouldn't have ended that way, or at least the raptor would be the one dead on the ground right now. Of that he was sure of. He made a note to himself to impart the news, at least find out who had survived her. Sure she had been a Biosyn agent, but… part of him wasn't feeling quite right with the way the situation had been handled, very messy and sloppy from the beginning. He looked back in the rearview mirror to look at the kid, saw his blank face just staring off to the side.

To see someone die like that had to be very damaging on the psyche he knew; he'd had to have therapy after the Sorna expedition himself. It had helped to underline his other underlying issues, including his youthful arrogance. He had the Satphone in his hand, the kid having handed it to him in a daze. He fiddled with the controls, listening to the sound of the rain pattering against the windshield. They were almost to the hill where the barn was, and he thought maybe he could try getting the record of the last call or something. Levine wasn't an idiot, he knew that most likely that the girl's last call had been to her bosses, probably about getting in reinforcements or a pickup. The last one seemed likely, as she seemed the sort who was clever enough to try to reverse the situation like that.

Okay this should do the trick, he thought to himself as the driver put the jeep into fourth gear. A bit rough going, but they were slowly and steadily making their way up the hill. He could already see the barn, how large and imposing it was. Its doors thrust open, and a sinister aura about it. Strange, he couldn't put his finger on it but there seemed to be something off. He put it to the back of his mind as he tried to figure out the Satphone again, it must be one of the newer models he thought to himself. He clicked what he thought was the right switch but only saw a red light flashing on and off on the side. Did that mean the battery was dying or something? He really had no idea.

He didn't know how the hell Marty was going to fit in the car if he was injured either. He supposed that one of them might have to be uncomfortable for the sake of the others as well. It was only until they got to the hummer, but… He just wanted to get this over with as fast as possible really. He put the receiver of the Satphone to his ear as he felt the final bump indicating that they were over the hill already. He heard a creak, and a hissing of statuc but otherwise nothing else. Frowning, Levine considered that the phone had after all been left out in the rain for hours under a dead body. Surely that had something to do with affecting the function.

"Hello, hello?" he asked, even as he could see the house opposite the barn come into view. Not a bad place actually, and he was curious to see how Marty was holding up. No answer on the phone, he could tell it was connected; maybe they just didn't want to answer. Biosyn safeguarded its secrets; there might be some sort of password to make it work. Ah hell, even if this phone didn't work, he still had another option. Like a fool he realized he'd left his cell phone in the hummer, right on the passenger seat. He hoped none of these little green lizards was in there right now; they'd probably have to clear the car before they were able to drive off in it.

As Muldoon braked to a stop in the clearing, Levine turned the phone off in frustration. No sense in wasting battery, he thought to himself, he would work on that later. After they got everyone out of this place. They all got out of the car, faced the house. The rain was pouring down around them, and he really didn't want to spend too much time here. "Should we knock on the door now, or after lunch?" Levine quipped, not really meaning to be sarcastic, he was just in a bad mood right now. Maybe it was this place, even though he'd barely been here a few hours. It had already left a lasting impression, even if it was a bad one.

"I'll do it," Muldoon said with a sigh, stepping forward. "We don't know how injured this man may be, it may be moderate, to maybe more severe. I need everyone to be willing to carry him to the car if need be. Do you understand?" His face was hard; although he was more worried about what sort of condition Marty was in right now. It was an unknown type of animal, at least unknown to him that had attacked the man; he had no idea what kind of damage it was capable of. The Doctor was here no doubt about it; if there was anyone who could keep Marty alive it was probably going to be her right now. His arm tense, he grabbed the doorknob and opened it outwards.

The others crowded behind him, so they could see. The house was barely lit, with a lamp on the end table illuminating the living room. They could see the dining room table, a form on it. For one long instant, their breaths caught in their mouths before they realized he was breathing, just very long and slow. There was a slumped figure leaning against the table, and he realized it must be Dr. Carter, most likely taking a rest after all that exhaustion. He shut the door behind him, glad to get the constant drone of the rain out of his head. As he stepped forward, he noted that the wound on Marty's leg looked serious, there were at least two sets of rags around it, in an attempt to staunch the bleeding.

Levine stepped forward, "Marty!" He called out, concern written all over his face, he stepped forward. However Muldoon's arm shot out, held him by the shoulder, shaking his head. "Let go of me damn it," Levine said very annoyed now. He was going to see how his old friend was doing, get him out of this situation and hopefully get some medical help. He could see from here that the wound looked bad, a wonder that he hadn't already bled out from the shock. He had a whole lot of questions to ask the doctor, about the severity of the wound, etc. He struggled again, but Muldoon's grip was like iron, for some reason. But there was something in his eye that made him pause.

Muldoon was staring at the small crumpled cigarette on the table. The woman wasn't the type to smoke, he thought he knew that much. Leaning over he picked it up, noticing how the woman didn't respond. "Wait a second," Muldoon said as he made his way around the table. Something was definitely wrong, he could feel it, and he could feel it in his bones. He prodded the slumped figure carefully with one hand, hearing Marty groan as he drifted in and out of unconciousness. He noticed at least two or three syringes by the side. Probably enough Morphine to stop a horse in that man's body by now he figured. Probably wouldn't even notice when they picked him up to put him in the car.

He flinched as the figure fell to the floor, the blankets that had very cleverly been rolled up to stimulate a form in the semi-darkness unrolled to the ground. As they did so, Muldoon turned around, shotgun suddenly aimed. Not fast enough, as he heard the familiar sound of a gun click right as he swerved. Out of the shadows he observed the man standing in front of him, his face covered with sweat and grime from the mud outside. In his hand was a handgun, it was too dark to make out the exact model, but that was not what captured their attention. No, it was the fact that this man held the gun to the head of Dr. Carter, his other hand holding her forcefully by the shoulder.

"Drop the goddamn gun or I'll blow her away," Ed James said, smiling as he looked out at the people. "So help me you move an inch and I'll put a hole in her head." He wasn't joking either, and he hoped they didn't make him call his bluff. Normally he wouldn't do something like this but with that animal on his back out there, he had no choice but to call the mission a failure. Taking the girl hostage had been a last minute choice, mainly when he'd seen the jeep pulling in and parking near the barn. The moment he'd seen Levine's face, he knew the game was over if he just acted normally. With none of his backup here right now, he would be identified instantly.

"That's right asshole," he said as Muldoon lowered the gun slightly, "Might want to drop it as well otherwise the good doctor here is getting one right in the head." He had no intention to kill anybody, but he was under duress right now, and probably could not be held responsible legally for anything he did right now. The courts would back him up on that, not responsible in any way, shape, or form. The most he would probably do he thought to himself was knock her over the head, make his escape while the people were too busy making sure she was okay. It was a shame really; she was a better looking broad then that other bitch. He moved towards the door, keeping one eye on the people, making sure they didn't move.

"I'll also be needing your car keys as well," James said, he turned the gun sideways to show he was serious. At least the broad was being quiet, he didn't really like it when too many people were talking as much. "If you would kindly toss them over, not throw them at my face that would be excellent." He took his hand off of Dr. Carter's shoulders for a moment, extended his arm just above her shoulder, his palm outstretched. He couldn't exactly wait forever, and he would let them know it. If they showed any signs of trying to attack him he would sure as hell shoot or hit the girl, to stop them from moving forward. Too bad about them but they would be relatively safe here.

Slung over his shoulder was his backpack, which contained the unconscious _Procompsognathus. _Hell even if they couldn't go back with that larger dinosaur, Rossiter would probably give him a promotion for this. It was still better then they'd managed to get in the past few years. Especially since the DNA from the aberrant forms had proven too degraded for the labs at Biosyn to handle, because by the time they got their hands on it was usually near burnt to a crisp by an overzealous government. This would do for now, give them a head start, hell it might even be the perfect size to breed in numbers without fear of government discovery. But first, he needed the keys, so he could get out of this place.

The man Levine, stepped forward, trembling and holding the car keys outstretched in his hand. "Okay, just don't hurt her," he said, clearly nervous at the way this situation had turned out. "You take the car, everybody goes their own way." He thought it could be resolved so easily, what a fool. He was taking the girl with him, at least as far as out the door. That was the only way he could be sure they didn't try anything foolish. He grabbed the car keys in his hands, feeling powerful and victorious at once. See how they all saw reason once they realized there was no other better way? He backed up, dragging the girl with him as he did so.

He was almost halfway to the door when he let go of the girl to grab the door handle. It turned out to be a mistake because before he knew it he felt a jabbing sensation in his ribs, and instinctively lowered his arms to his chest to protect himself. In that moment, she dove to the floor, as Muldoon had suddenly aimed his gun right at him. It seemed to be a Mexican standoff, very classic. But it was going to end one way, with him walking out the door. Ed James smiled, still confident in himself. This was nothing other then a minor inconvenience. Just like most people were. He leveled the gun straight at Muldoon, his smile not wavering.

Muldoon couldn't understand why James didn't put the gun down. Carter had got him at a disadvantage there, managed to elbow him in the ribs. By anybodies reckoning that should've been enough to incapacitate him. Or at least stop him long enough to get a bead. But he'd had to rush for Levine's Uzi, grab it out of his hands. That had cost valuable time. "Drop the damn gun," he said gritting his voice, or I'll blow your goddamn brains all over the floor." He didn't know how serious he was, and frankly he didn't care. After seeing what had happened to the Biosyn woman, he wasn't about to let them kill anybody else with their selfishness and greed. His blood shot eyes were either that way from too much whiskey, or just tiredness in general.

But James was still smiling, his goddamn infuriating smile making all the alcohol inside of him boil. Maybe he would just shoot him in the knee, incapacitate the man without actually killing him. He wouldn't normally entertain such thoughts, but this man had held a gun to an innocent woman just moments before. In this kind of situation he really was at his wits end. The day was just too damn long and wouldn't end. "Wipe the damn smile off your face and tell me what's so funny," He was losing his patience rapidly, and was really not in the mood for this man not to take anything seriously. He just wasn't in the mood at all. He took a quick glance at Levine's face, wondered why he looked so worried.

"Maybe you should consider lowering your own gun," strange, he didn't recognize the sound of that voice. But it was coming from behind him. He realized that there was only one candidate for that person to be, and he sighed. Why didn't he see it coming earlier? It had been so obvious, right from the start. The eggs, keeping the backpack with the eggs, there had been no reason to take them had there? If the backpack had been left at the house, the woman would've never have died really. He lowered the Uzi carefully, making sure that the kid saw him drop it to the floor. Levine already had his hands up, a look of resignation in his eye.

The kid circled them carefully, still aiming the gun at them. James looked bemused, and intrigued at this turn of events. But Muldoon noted one thing, that he did not look surprised at all. Had they been in contact before the expedition even started? He noted that as a distinct possibility. But there was certainly nothing they could do about it right now. He breathed heavily as he noticed the two staring at him, almost as if they were going to taunt him. But they hadn't shot him yet, and that was something to consider right now. Most likely they were just going to leave quiet and rationally. Plus any gunshot might draw the attention of the large animal, that was almost certainly skulking around somewhere nearby.

But they didn't shoot them and James opened the door carefully, this time with one gun aimed down at the woman, the kid's gun aimed at them. The door slammed just as quick and they all set a deep breath. Then as one Levine and Muldoon rushed to the window, with Levine stopping first to help the Doctor up. From the perspective of the window he could see the two get into the car, try to start it. It seemed they were having some difficulty. Hell that was good, he could go back and get his shotgun if he had to. He was about to go back when he heard a sound, the sound of the transmission starting up. He would never make to and back before they got away that was for sure.

Frustrated, Muldoon slammed his fists against the glass, feeling the hot stench of the whiskey reflect back to him. Dammit, why did he not see that coming, he could already see the self-congratulatory sneer on the man's face as they started the car, and were preparing to back it up. Suddenly he realized something as he was looking down at the ground. Even though the rain was coming down pretty heavily, he could still see the fresh imprints of some animals tracks on the ground. He thought to himself that if James had been chased in here by that animal where would the animal go… It was an interesting train of thought to be sure.

Just as he thought, there was a sudden shift in the change of the ambience. He could hear the normal patter of the rain pouring down but there was also something else, something oh so quiet in the background. His trained ears could hear it because it was the sound of a stalking animal trying not to be heard. He pressed his palms flat against the window, smiling inwardly to himself. Well, if this weren't an amusing turn of events. He sort of figured that it would happen, given that it was right near the animals 'home' territory. He could hear the sound of the rain pouring against the glass, the sound of the thunder rolling, and the car's transmission starting. There was a faint tremor, made the glass tingle ever so softly against his fingertips. He felt alive, like he was back in Africa.

There was another low rumble, and he could tell it wasn't thunder. Levine got the good doctor to her feet, and they watched the scene. Something seemed to stir out of the darkness, and now even the people in the jeep were starting to notice. The man was gunning the engine faster now, some new and desperate energy given to his actions. A large shape was suddenly visible, its outline of its form barely distinguishable in this driving rain. But he could see it, oh yes he could see it. From the reflection, he saw recognition come into Levine's eyes, as the man drew in his breath, utterly astonished. The beast stepped out, and they all could hear the growl louder, as it assessed the new entity in its territory.

The dinosaur suddenly roared, rearing its head back before staggering towards the jeep. At that moment the Jeep fired up, and started backing up. The large dinosaur roared again, lunging forward and nearly snapping the tailpipe of the jeep. The car skidded a bit to the side, and then sped forward. Muldoon had a flash of inspiration and flicked the light switch. The dinosaur seemed to fluctuate colors for almost the barest tenth of a second, but it was enough for him to see it fully in the light. He was awed, so that's what they had made on the other island… The animal chased after the jeep, following it as it swerved down the hill. He smiled to himself.

"Looks like it'll lead him on a merry chase," he said.


	25. The Red Queen

James grinned triumphantly as he started the car, shaking his head as he breathed in. He was on top of the world right now; they were going to get out of this hellhole. Not only that, but he had a sample of a dinosaur with him as well. Too bad about the other animal really, that wasn't going to be on the agenda for today. But he would call for a larger team once he had access to a working phone. But for now he was more then happy, as the Compy would give their scientists quite a lot to work with. He tossed the backpack in the backseat, looking casually as the kid got in. Noticed the kid put his backpack on his lap before putting on that seatbelt.

"Ready to get out of here kid?" He asked, not really expecting an answer to that. The kid only grunted, and James nodded as he tried to start the damn thing. Car was a piece of crap really, though one thing at least it had a roof protecting against the driving rain. He shook his head, at the irony of it, that a Biosyn agent was operating Ingen's own jeeps that would've been used in the Nublar Park. Well, it wasn't really that far from the nearest town. All he had to do was go down the mountain, and find the main road. From there he could reach a populated village, get some more support.

He hadn't seen hide or hair of his companions yet, which struck him as somewhat odd, even as he turned the key again. He thought for sure that that Jefferson man would've been able to show up somewhere, somehow. If they were hiding somewhere in one of the buildings, he thought he'd have known it by now. The bitch was probably dead by now he knew, the Carnotaur would've seen her fear, smelt it as the most weak and vulnerable prey. Either way it was enough of a distraction that had allowed him to get away. After all, the large dinosaur would not be able to follow him into a building or a house. He could feel the ignition starting to warm up, and was glad of it.

The rain was really coming down hard and he turned on the wipers as he set his foot down on the pedal. There was a water bottle in the cup holder, and he reached for it to calm his nerves. The people in the house wouldn't dare follow him, he was sure of that. By the time they had picked up their guns, James would be long gone with the kid in tow. He would reward the kid properly of course, based on what they'd agreed on. It had been a risky gamble paying him up front based on a trip to Costa Rica. But Ismaloya had been a foci in the biting incidents all these years ago, which had brought the probability that there were remnants in the area up to a larger percentage.

The Compy in the backpack was enough proof of that, especially since he'd seen firsthand the roaming pack that must frequent this area. He had his own theories about that. He wiped the rearview mirror, looking to the side as he saw the kid staring at the backpack. What was in that thing, he wondered vaguely, but then didn't care. It was the larger animal that puzzled him. Dinosaur that size couldn't have gotten off either island, even as a juvinile. That meant that it had likely been smuggled to the mainland as an egg. If that was so, was it an isolated incident? That was something he needed to discuss with Rossiter when he got back.

As the car started, James picked up the water bottle and noticed it was half full. He stared at it for a second trying to figure out what was wrong. It just felt odd for a second, some feeling in his gut telling him to wait. His hand wasn't shaking; it was perfectly still. Yet the goosebumps were going all the way up to his arm. There was no reason why that should be so. No reason at all. He turned and looked in the rearview mirror, now just barely defogged. Nothing, why had he thought something was coming then? Or why would he automatically assume something was coming? He set the drink down, not thirsty any more. He looked to the side quickly, the kid didn't seem to notice anything, and the people in the house were still glued to the window.

He started to scoff before he realized that none of them had made a move to come outside. This was new, especially since he would probably be the first to come charging outside if the roles had been reversed. He frowned, and tried to see where they were looking, behind the car apparently, he craned his neck but the driving rain obscured his vision. Probably this shitty plastic film as well, perhaps their vision was clearer due to the glass? He didn't like this, not at all. He turned to the kid, who was finally beginning to notice something was perhaps amiss. He clutched the backpack tighter, almost instinctually. Strange… yet James wasn't staring at Baxter, but at the water bottle. He'd placed it back about a minute ago. But the water was still rippling. Rippling in almost perfectly evenly spaced intervals.

Then he started to feel it, something heavy behind them. He turned around, and glimpsed a dark shape rise out of the barn. The fear grew in his heart as his mouth froze in horror. The kid noticed as well, the expression on his face being damn near priceless. Not even aware of what he was doing, James grabbed the gears, pushed it backwards. The animal roared, but was confused enough that it waited until they stopped moving to attempt to snap at them. Ed James quickly turned the steering wheel around, towards the village. He felt it skid in the thick mud, and then he stepped on the gas.

The mud was more slippery then he though it was going to be really, he had not counted on how heavy the rain had fallen. The mud was preventing the jeep from gaining much traction, especially since after the rainfall; it was already beginning to set in. Not too mention, the Jeep's transmission seemed to be having a rough time dealing with it, even when he'd pushed it all the way to fourth gear. However he wasn't worried, if they could get down to the village, he could easily outdrive the animal, and get to civilization. Hell, he knew he probably wasn't going to let his foot off the pedal until at least five miles from this damn village. He turned the steering wheel over in his hands, trying to get a firm grip with his hands.

The kids face was ashen, but he was already trying to open the window. James thought he knew what he was attempting to do, and turned sideways to swat the kids hand away. "You dumb f-" He started but didn't finish, as he quickly realized that he was swerving again. Well this asshole next to him wanted to try to gun the animal down, a joke really with a small piece like that. The Carnotaur was to the left of the car now, utilizing the advantage of the mud and James's distraction. It was semi-sprinting, lowering its head at an angle as it gave a low roar. Its intentions towards the jeep were very clear, and James knew it.

The kid dropped the piece in surprise, the gun clattering to the floor. He did not reach for it though, just held on to his backpack while giving James a low glare. In the back of his mind, James wondered what about that backpack was so damn important. But it was none of his business really; he'd gotten what he came for sort of, proof of survival right in his own backpack. Right now the only imperative was to get out of this clearing, down the hill and into the village. His palms were perspiring, and he wasn't sure that he could make the turn but he did. He grinned a bit as in the turn, the car clipped the Carnotaur a bit, causing the animal to groan. _Take that you huge bastard_, he thought to himself.

His smile widened as he passed the barn, and could see the path down to the village. Sure the road might be a little bumpy. He remembered only a little of how it had originally been to walk up. But here he was going to have to try a new tactic; he shifted it out of fourth gear, realizing that might cause him to go down the hill too fast. Then he stepped on the accelerator again, grinding his teeth as he began his descent. He noticed the Carnotaur stop for a second, tilting its head as if puzzled. He didn't know what the hell it was doing until it started lowering its head, and backing up. Oh shit, he thought again, as he hit the gas hard.

He wasn't quick enough however, and they felt the jolt as the large dinosaur hit the back of the car. The impact was enough to send the backpack in the backseat sailing straight into the front. He pushed it to the side not wanting a distraction, and shook his head quickly as he pressed on the accelerator again, and the car began to travel down the hill. His head was a bit wobbly from the hit, and he was trying to get his bearings. All he was really sure of was the exit to the village was somewhere past the bat, at least what he could recall from the evacuation. He was already quite a distance away, could hear the dinosaur roaring in frustration. James grinned.

He let himself sigh, as he put the gear back into first place. The kid's face was sort of off though, and he couldn't figure out why. Like he was squirming or something. He looked down for a brief instant, and swore. "Ah hell," he said as he bit his lip. The zipper to the backpack had come undone in the tumble, and he could see the Compy's head sticking out. It blinked at him curiously, craning its neck as it stared from the floor. Then slowly, it began to crawl its way out of the backpack. The kid tried to step on it, but it was a sly thing, it really was. The backpack was rolling around on the floor, and in addition to the gun, Baxter couldn't get a good traction on it while trying to get it simultaneously.

In a few seconds the lizard had squirmed its way out of the bag completely. James was finding it hard to keep an eye on the path, and the thing at the same time. He heard the kid cry out, and he looked up in surprise. They were barreling towards a tent at great speed. He couldn't stop neither could he swerve at the moment, he just had to keep it straight. There was a ton of shit in there he knew, and of course the tent flap would…he grit his teeth as the moment of impact came and passed, feeling the contents of Carter's medical tent crash into the windshield all at once. It was very much a blur; he couldn't see anything.

The windshield was slightly cracked, he supposed some heavy thing had fallen on it, but he didn't really know or care right now. The fact was he couldn't see because the damn fabric was right in front of the windshield. Under normal circumstances he would stop to tear it off, but right now he didn't really want to risk that chance. It would take too long to get everything up and running again. He turned on the window wipers, hoping to get it working. The wipers started up, and then promptly got caught on the fabric. He'd sort of expected that to happen really, and so he was not unduly bothered. He just let the wipers do their thing; hopefully it would sweep the fabric out of the way.

In the near distance he could hear the Carnotaur roaring. And to his right he could see the lizard chirping, it was now perched right on Baxter's leg. But the kid was not moving, mostly because if he let go, his backpack would fall. _What was so important in that damn backpack anyway_? He made a move to swat the lizard away but instead it tried to nip at him. Little bastard was going to die, nobody tried to bite him like this. They could get as much DNA from it dead as alive after all. He lunged for it again, distracting his attention. Then suddenly the kid leaned forward as well, his hand on the wheel. James had enough of these distractions today and was about to say so. Then he looked out, saw the fabric was halfway gone.

The reason why the kid had tried to grab the wheel was because they were heading straight for the side of one of the villager houses. He tried to avert it, and quickly turned the steering wheel around. The car screeched, the occupants feeling as if they were being physically pulled to one side. He thought for a moment that it would, and braced himself mentally for impact. If it got the side, then he might reduce the damage to himself. The Compy meanwhile flew backwards into the backseat, chirping as it went. James held his breath as he pressed the brakes as hard as he could, willing the car to stop. He turned and he saw the wall rushing up to meet them, and the sudden thrust of the car stopping mid-swerve.

He took a long breath as he opened his eyes and just stayed there for a second. They had come that close, really way too damn close right there. He could've died, and he saw the kids face was pale. He stared at the backpack, noticed the kid's grip was tighter, almost as if he was trying to protect the contents. The zipper was partially open, as the kid stared inside as if to reassure himself. James was naturally curious, and he turned his head to see. He blinked as he saw the ovoid spheres sticking out from the bag. So that's why the kid had been so anxious. He got lucky and found a nest, thought he could make bank without him knowing. Well not on his watch, Biosyn needed these eggs, even though he had no idea what species they were from nor did he care.

He started to say something, lift his gun up to show the kid who was going to own these eggs. But then he heard something, which caused him to whip his attention back to the windshield. The Carnotaur was standing right there to the side of them now, he had no idea how it had gotten there that fast. Of course it could've been while he was distracted with the car. He frantically hit the gas, but the car started out slowly, which proved to his disadvantage. With an angry roar, the large animal charged, coming straight at them, it's head lowered. James tried frantically to hit the gas to no avail. To the side of him he could hear the seat belt clicking, as the kid fiddled with the door. No shit really.

There was no way he could get out at this point, so he braced for impact, hoping the air bag would deploy. The kid was already out of the car and running towards the side of the house. Smart strategy really, James thought to himself in the moment before the Carnotaur barreled into the side of the jeep at the climax of the charge. He felt the world turning as the jeep was lifted to one side by the sheer force of the impact. He kept his seat belt on though; sure that it would be enough. The air bag deployed, and he quickly held on to it, as the Jeep landed harshly on its side. Still he didn't experience backlash because his knees were firmly pressed against the bottom of the steering wheel, and his hands were firmly gripped on the airbag.

The Carnotaur roared in triumph, then started biting one of the tires. James didn't have any idea why, but he saw that as a good distraction to get the hell out of here. He grabbed the butt of his pistol, and hit it against the airbag until it deflated. As it went down, he undid the seat belt buckle and crawled out of his seat. He saw the lizard staring at him as if mocking him as he went. It was standing right in front of him, its head turned to one side curiously. He kicked at it with his foot, and was satisfied that he struck it square in the body. It was slightly stunned, and the car was rocking under the weight. The animal was trying to tip it completely over, but James could see that was impossible. If that was tried, the house would prop up one half.

He grabbed the prone Compy as he scrambled down the other seat, and jumped out the window. Running to the side he looked back and stared at the massive animal. Damn it was even larger up close, he lifted his gun, and he had a good shot he thought. If only he could get a sensitive area like the eyes… He was interrupted again as he heard another rumble. At first he thought it was the dinosaur again starting to roar. But it wasn't, no it was something else entirely. The three of them, two men and a dinosaur craned their heads simultaneously at the sound. An engine, but not from the car which was already a wreck.

Another car was coming down the hill, which he had just come down. A pickup truck, and he had an idea of who was driving it. Shit, he thought again as he realized that was now the only functioning car in the village. How had he overlooked it? At least the Carnotaur's attention was distracted now… James knew that there was only one entrance and exit to the village. If they tried to go that way he would be waiting. As he turned he saw the bar, and smiled.

Levine's Hummer, the door open. Well, maybe he wouldn't have to be that drastic after all.


	26. The Edge of Chaos

As the Jeep went out of view, everybody started trying to talk at once. It was a disconcerting pandemonium because nobody wanted to be left alone here in the village. Muldoon was the first to raise his hands, to try to call for silence. "I didn't say anything but that asshole didn't take the only route out," The others looked at him, their eyes twinkling with new understanding. Was he meaning exactly what he was implying? His head was nodding, which was enough to reassure them that the man knew what he was talking about, after all he'd lived in the village longer then any of them. "First listen to me," Muldoon continued as he walked over to where Marty was. "Man who lived here had a pickup in the back. Left his keys in it all the time,"

Carter thought she understood what Muldoon meant as she raised her hand. "I take it on of us is going to have to bring the car around, and two remain to carry him to the car?" She wasn't the biggest fan of this plan but she thought of the most obvious solution would be for Muldoon and the new guy to carry Marty while she drove. She sort of expected there to be an objection from the men but they said nothing, realizing their options were limited right now. She shrugged, rolling down her shirtsleeve so that they wouldn't see the injection mark. The morphine was already working its way through her blood stream, but she thought that it wasn't hindering her that much at the moment.

As Muldoon nodded to confirm this, she turned to go, taking a flashlight with her. The immediate threat was gone for now, so she thought it would be pretty safe for right now, at least in this area. She turned on the flashlight and began walking around the house. The rain was coming down hard, and that made walking through it something of a chore, but otherwise she was fine. The car was right where Muldoon said it would be, an old rusty pickup. She opened the door, got in the front seat and started the engine. If anything could be said, she was damned grateful that it was working. Guiterriez would have to be in the back of course; no way someone could keep him upright through the mountain roads they would have to drive through later.

As the woman left to go get the car, Levine ran to Marty's side. Behind him, Muldoon picked up the guns and placed them on the counter for now. "Are you okay, Marty?" He asked, even though Marty didn't appear responsive. He knew the woman; Dr. Carter had likely been treating him all this time. He knew who she was of course, from reading the transcripts on the InGen report. She had been listed as the Doctor who had treated the injured workman from one of the initial raptor escapes at the park. There was no evidence to suggest that she'd known anything of the truth of what had really happened to the man, although by now she probably had some idea. A dry smile cracked across his worn face as he contemplated that the very animal that had caused that mauling was even now down in the village.

Marty's eyes fluttered open, and he gasped as he took a few deep breaths. "Easy now," Levine said to him, "Just take it slow and easy." Though he was thinking to himself that the wound really looked bad, and the animal he'd seen outside in the gloom could've easily caused it. The brief glimpse he'd gotten had been enough to confirm his suspicions given the Kid's earlier description of it. Carnotaurus Sastrei, the very same animal that had killed Diego, and nearly managed to kill him. He thought to himself that with the demise of Sorna, this had to be the very last specimen alive, a lonely giant. "We're going to get you to safety now, just a few seconds now." He paused as Marty grabbed his hand, just too shocked from earlier.

"Richard," Marty said through a ragged gasp, managing the barest corner of a smile. "I knew you would make it." Levine didn't even know what to say or think, the only thing on the tip of his tongue was to berate the man about hiding knowledge of the dinosaurs from him. Somehow he restrained himself though, nobody was in the mood right now. "You saw what hit me?" Of course the man had to have heard the roars, beyond any deniability now. "I'm surprised, you'd think they'd have had something like that on the tour." He seemed somewhat out of it, much like Malcolm had been back on Sorna. The pain was probably too much that there was no other way he could endure it but still… He was about to say something when Muldoon put his hand on his shoulder, and gestured with his head.

"Time to go," Muldoon said, and for once Levine didn't argue. He went and placed the gun in his waistband as Muldoon slung his over his back. Then they went on opposite sides of Marty and counted from three. Muldoon had the legs; Levine was carrying him from the shoulders. They walked slowly out of the room, towards the door which Muldoon had already opened. He could see the lights of the pickup through the rain, and had a pretty good idea of where Marty was going to have to be. It was very muddy so it was some rough going, but they were beside the car in no time at all. He dug in his legs as he opened the rear hatch and carried Marty onto the bed of the truck.

"Okay, here's the plan," Levine said as he got into the driver's seat. The doctor had gone to the back of the pickup to look after her patient for now. "We get to the Hummer, and then transfer Marty over there." He sure as hell didn't want the man to be in the back while they were passing over these rocky mountain roads. It was dangerous as hell, and he had for confirmation Muldoon's nod. He shifted the truck into gear, and started up the engine again. With the Carnotaur chasing the other car, he had a feeling the lower village would be clear for now. The raptor and the compys would be scared off by the presence of the larger animal, each being no match to challenge it at all.

He started the car, checking back quickly to make sure everyone was secure. He drove off, slightly relieved that they were getting out of there. His only concern at the moment was the Carnotaur, which might have given up chasing the other car, and might turn its attention to them. Especially in a pickup truck like this it was rather worrisome, so he pushed it to the back of his mind for now. He could worry about that later, right now he was just focused on getting everyone the hell out of dodge. They passed the barn, and they could all see the village beloew. Beside him, Muldoon raised his eybebrows, and Levine gasped as he took a breath. Okay, this might be slightly more complicated.

"What, what is it?" He heard the doctor say as she turned around and saw what they were staring at. Down in the village the Jeep was on its side, and leaning against one of the houses on the far side of the clearing. The side door looked completely totaled, and the engine was smashed up. Beside the car, the large dinosaur was ripping at the tires, shaking its head back and force to try to loosen them. To the side they could see James and the kid running off towards the Hummer. It was still a bit away from where they were standing, but if they didn't do anything, they would get in the car was thinking the same thing, how not to let that happen.

Levine stepped on the gas again rather abruptly, "Hold on to your butts," he remarked as they went down the hill. Still rather rocky, and everyone had to hold on tight, but it wasn't as bad as it had been on the other side of the village. Once he was on the flat part again, he turned the car quickly, trying to give the animal a wide berth. He knew he had to do this quickly; they had two enemies, or three actually. With the use of the guns they could ward off the large animal, but he didn't want to take his chances with the men. He saw Muldoon was still holding his SPAS-12, and he couldn't reach use his gun right now since he was driving. He thought best point of action might be to try to cut the other guys off for now.

He cut through the village, staying on the path and trying not to get too bogged down in the mud. He was watching the men out of the corner of his eye, and the dinosaur in another. The Carnotaur had noticed them and had started to turn around already. He was already doubting that they would have time to move Marty in the Hummer, but he would try. After all, the Hummer was more durable then the jeep, it should be capable of taking some moderate impacts for know. He swallowed shaking his head as they continued near the bar. The men were already more then halfway there, when he parked the car in drive, right in front of the bar. He noticed that the body in the doorway was gone by now, though the body of the girl remained, though it was decapitated with the head missing.

He stopped the car, both he and Muldoon getting out at the same time. He nodded to Carter, as he undid the back really quick. They started carrying Marty out of the back while Muldoon stood guard. There was no sign of the Carnotaur right now, though he was very sure that it was still in the immediate area. His knowledge of its hunting tactics from Sorna had taught him that this animal was never to be underestimated in its home territory. Looking back, Levine was glad that he'd left the driver's side door to the car open. He had the keys in his front pocket; from there they could easily just put Marty in the backseat and drive. Two people to go in one car, and two in another, which seemed fairly obvious.

Muldoon didn't like it; it was too quiet. He should've seen the dinosaur by now he was aware of that much. It was different now that he was able to see it in the light for the first time through the window, very much so. He was only familiar with the animals on Nublar, and the fact they he'd never been informed of a large carnivore such as this was greatly troubling to him. Hell, he would've been very much against the inclusion of the animal in the park, given Hammond the decision that if he wanted this new animal in he'd have to get rid of the raptors. Especially that ability… that was even worse then the Dilo spitting, in his opinion, since you wouldn't even know if the animal was there until it was right…

He was keeping an eye on the ground, figuring that even if the damn thing could turn itself invisible, he would be able to tell if it was getting close. No, it was the humans he was worried about right now. The idiot kid, and that other asshole. They might be desperate to get back to civilization with the dinosaur eggs, and he didn't know to what level they would go to ensure that they would get their payday. He checked the chamber again, the rain coming off the brim of his hat as he sighed. He hoped that they didn't take too long with Marty right now; he really wanted to get out of here, just leave this place. He was thinking that perhaps it ws time he went back to the states by now…

His eyes caught a glimpse of a shadow to his right, and he saw the figure of Ed James approach him, gun raised. Muldoon had his gun up as well, his mouth stretched into a taut smile. So this bastard thought that he was ready to live dangerously? The man did not have a clue what that meant he was sure and he stepped forward, as he turned his head curiously. No hostages to bargain over now, it would be a standoff. He did not see the kid anywhere but he knew that he must be nearby; skulking in the shadows must likely. He heard a door slam behind him and he did not need to look to figure out that Carter and Marty were safely in the Hummer. Hopefully they would have the sense to lock the doors behind them as well.

Neither man said anything as they cautiously approached each other, their eyes hardened. Muldoon knew a desperate man would be willing to try anything, so he kept on his guard, and tightened his grip on his Shotgun. He didn't move a muscle, nor did he divert his aim from the man. No expression registered on his face, and his eyes only paid attention to the little details, such as how the other man's trigger finger was itching right now. It was a Mexican standoff really, and neither party would hold off to the other. They were very close now, and he didn't like it. Either he was going to have to shoot or not. Center mass, he told himself, trying to keep his gun steady.

His hands were shaking, and he knew that was an effect of the drinking earlier today. The goosebumps ran up his arms as he blinked once or twice. He did not intend to show any weakness, but at the same time he couldn't afford to screw around out here. He took a step forward, and now their weapons were barely a few feet apart from each other. If it was going to be now or never, he thought to himself. He stared at the man, saw the predatory grin emerge on his face, and his eyes slit. Now, it seemed the man had chosen to strike, like a lion. That was the thing about them; they just attacked if they saw any perceived weakness.

Well that was what he'd wanted them to think, both in the African Savanahh, and here as well. His finger clicked on the trigger, he knew he only had one shot really. If he tried swinging the gun to center mass the one dead would be himself. So he took it, firing at his initial aim, which took Ed James off guard. It was a bit high yes, but enough of the shot hit James's shoulder that he dropped the pistol with a cry of pain. Muldoon didn't waste the opportunity, rushing up, and quickly butting the man in the chest with the butt of the rifle. Incapacitate; take down the threat. Kill only if absolutely necessary, and at the same time remember there was nothing more dangerous then a wounded animal-

The sucker punch caught him off guard, and Muldoon dropped his own gun as the force of the blow caught him in the cheek. "Guess they don't teach that in Nairobi?" Ed James taunted him as he laughed. Before Muldoon could recover, there was another blow to his knee, and he bent over due to the sudden shock. Breathing heavily, Muldoon glared up at the man, his angry boiling. James was getting ready for another punch, but this time Muldoon saw it coming. He dodged, and stepping to the side delivered a vicious backhand to James. Got the bastard good, he thought as he saw the man tumble to the ground. Muldoon began to turn around, when he felt a hand on his leg.

Before he could stop himself, he was tripped up on the ground. Trying to get up, there was another vicious kick to his side. Groaning, Muldoon turned his head up, and saw James was already up, pistol in hand. "How about not bringing guns to a fistfight," Muldoon growled, though for some reason it didn't seem to be that bad. As a hunter, he always knew that one day his life would end like this, in a confrontation with another hunter. That was the thrill of the hunt, that one day you were matched up with an opponent who was not only your equal, but also your superior. At least the others would get away he thought to himself. It seemed time slowed to a crawl as James drew the hammer back, preparing to fire.

Then Muldoon saw something that made him fall back into the mud. His hands over his head, he grabbed his hat that had fallen during the fight. James was obviously very confused, not having any idea of what Muldoon was doing. He stepped forward, lowering his gun ready to shoot the man. But then he heard it too, the sound of something heavy very close by. He turned around slowly, not taking his gun off of Muldoon. Was this some last minute ploy? He silently thanked Muldoon for leaving the keys in the car, that way he could get out of this shithole. But as he turned around, those thoughts were driven out of his head. Then his mind went blank too, trying to comprehend what he was seeing.

Normally the animal would've been invisible had it not been raining. But as it was, the pouring rain traced the outline of the Carnotaur, even as its camoflauge mechanism was working. It was a stealthy predator, having chosen the less muddy portions of the ground upon which to walk in order not to leave any footprints. But it did now, as besides the strange outline in the rain, two large footprints appeared almost supernaturally in front of the man. Sensing the Camoflauge was no longer needed, the color returned to normal, and he could see the animal now in the fading daylight. It growled softly, as James quickly turned his gun around, attempting to shoot the dinosaur for good this time.

He wasn't quick enough, and James screamed as the animal lowered its head suddenly, knocking him to the ground. Muldoon rolled suddenly to the side, realizing the animal was distracted with the man. He started running, towards the cars, not even daring to go back to pick up his gun. He didn't look back either, lest the Carnotaur decide to turn his attention to him. Just going to get out of this place, really fast. The keys were in the car, and all he had to do was get in and drive for the most part he thought to himself. Muldoon reached the car, and he saw Levine on the floor groaning and holding his head. Looking at the Hummer, he saw the kid in the passenger seat, and Dr. Carter at the wheel, a gun pressed to her head.

Helping Levine up, he could only watch as the hummer started to drive away from their location, and towards the entrance to the village. Wordlessly the two men stumbled towards the pickup, Muldoon getting in the passenger seat this time. Levine seemed to freeze as he saw the large dinosaur, and he had an idea. Taking the gun out of his waistband, he counted himself lucky the kid hadn't seen it while sucker punching him. "He wants a chase, we'll give him one," Levine remarked as he handed the gun over to Muldoon. He stepped on the gas as Muldoon fired the gun out the window, hoping to attract the attention of their erstwhile adversary. He wouldn't let the kid get away…

James was on his back, screaming. He had tried to get up, but the animal had knocked him over again. It seemed that he was fighting to breathe, and his chest was extremely hot right now. Propping himself up with his hands, he tried and found that he was getting up after all. Then the numbness wore off and he realized that was because his shoulder was in the animal's jaws. Screaming, he got to his feet as he tried to wrest the dinosaur away feebly. His strength was no match for the animal and his arms fell away as the animal let go. Ed James stared in a daze at his arm hanging limply off his shoulder, almost certainly broken, and the other one was in too much pain from the buckshot to move.

Staggering, he took a step back, as the animal lowered It's head again. This time the bite was closer to his collarbone, and all the breath was taken out of his body. He couldn't move, and the massive dinosaur shook him like a rag doll, tearing his flesh to shreds. Letting go, it's jaws salivating now, it was preparing to attack again, when it raised its head, hearing the shot ring out. Growling, it backed up, lumbering after whatever had dared to interrupt its kill. James took a few steps forward after it as well, but the blood loss had been too much. Sinking to his knees, James felt the red mist clouding his vision, as he stared out at the cars. The last intelligible thoughts coming out of the gloom...

[I]I failed...Mr. Rossiter. [/I]


	27. Countdown

"Drive dammit," was all Carter heard as the gun was pressed very roughly to her head. First thought was that she was sick of being herded around at gunpoint today, really sick of it. Second was anxiety for her patient, as she had put Marty in the backseat, and hadn't even enough time to strap him into a seatbelt. She looked up in the mirror not daring to turn her head to the side and saw the kid. Frowning, her eyes flickered and she realized she couldn't see the other man anywhere. She had not heard any gunshots so she suspected the kid must have snuck up from behind the man unawares; maybe hit him over the head. She swallowed, as she didn't see any alternative right now, after all her hands had already been on the steering wheel when she'd been taken hostage a second time.

It was her own damn fault; she'd spent too much time staring at the form of the dinosaur through the rain. Besides that one brief time when the barn doors had opened, she hadn't gotten a good look at it. Damn, she'd though, if someone had really been as insane as to bring such a destructive force back into the world. At least now she felt vindicated, that she hadn't been wrong when treating the workman so long ago back in Bahia Anasco. The body on the floor hadn't escaped her notice either, and she wondered if the large dinosaur had killed the person. From the fatigues it had been one of the mercenaries, but she wasn't sure which one. Anyways the moment of distraction had come when the two men had started

Fighting, and then the other man realized too late the dinosaur was behind him. She was such a fool not to have immediately started the car as soon as the large dinosaur had come into view. But by then it had been too late.  
"Shit," she muttered under her breath as she started the engine and heard the passenger side close. The kid threw two backpacks into the backseat, and she heard Marty groan as they hit him at once. But she couldn't say anything, wondering how desperate this kid might be. She didn't know why he had suddenly turned traitor or any of the details only that by co-operating she and Marty might be able to get down to a populated area alive. It was a risky proposition, but hopefully…Dr. Carter set the car on a course for the exit, seeing Muldoon running back to the truck in her rearview mirror. At least they would be followed, she thought to herself, as that greatly decreased the probability of this jackass just dumping them both on the side of the road, far from civilization.

It really wasn't that far from the entrance to the village and she found that they were exiting through the one road. If she remembered right the nearest town was about five or ten miles away. They just needed to get down the mountain and its winding and curving roads. Problem was even the nearest village wouldn't have a phone, but it would probably have enough gas or a car to refuel if they were thrown out by this desperate man. She stayed silent her eyes straightforward as she continued. Just the nearest look at his face she could tell the man was tense, perhaps even a bight frightened. Who knew what it would take to set him off, probably it wouldn't take that much for his trigger finger to slip. Maybe it wouldn't even be an accident she thought grimly to herself.

Marty groaned in the backseat as he was tossed back and forth as the car buckled. In his state, he was barely able to keep himself upright on the seat, much less comprehend what was going on in the front of the car. All he had heard was shouting, a door slam and then two backpacks were thrown into the seat beside him, one of which struck him. He groaned again as the other one hit the floor of the car, as he tried to feel his way around the backpack that had fallen right into his lap. The road was bumpy, and he blinked as he realized there was something in the backpack. Opening it, he was acutely aware of the stabbing pain in his leg, it still hurt like hell, just constant, throbbing pain.

The morphine was starting to wear off he realized, and soon it would become too much for him to handle. This was probably only an intermediate state of lucidity, as the last bit of the painkiller was working through his system. Wiping his brow, Marty stared as he grabbed the backpack and undid the zipper. Was he really seeing this or was it some illusion? Two large ovoid shapes, dimpled all over, he had never seen anything like this except what Grant had described to him when the Nublar incident was being investigated. Dinosaur eggs, two of them to be exact, carefully separated from each other by padding. He wondered where the hell they had come from, realizing they were way too large to be Compy eggs, and most definetly not from that large animal.

Another thing he noticed was that only one of the eggs seemed to be slightly different from the others. As a scientist, he noticed the extra dimpling on the other egg and frowned. Why had they been packaged together? That was one thing troubling him as he looked down. He thought in a village this size there should only be one nest around in the nearby woods, only enough habitat for one larger escaped dinosaur. That was really all the ecosystem could support. He shook his head as he looked up, and saw almost as if for the first time, the gun. Something clicked in his head as only the sight of a gun could. It happened in nature in some instances, such as the cuckoo bird, he remembered from his research.

A transient coming through might choose to lay its eggs where they were likely not to be disturbed, he realized. Although not knowing the context of the site, Marty realized he probably could not even make an educated guess about which egg had been originally in the nest. But it didn't take a genius to figure out…he blinked again as he rubbed his eyes. The reflection in the rear view mirror he could see just enough of the face that his eyebrows shot up immediately. Baxter… even though he still felt like he was about to pass out, he grit his teeth in anger. So the kid had been in league with the 'mercenaries' this whole time?

He shook his head, as he thought to himself how there was nothing he could do. But…he then realized to himself that his cell phone was in his back pocket. As they turned a corner, he took the opportunity to exaggerate a fall, and slammed face first onto the seat. Lying down now directly behind the passenger seat, Marty held the backpacks carrying the eggs and set it down. With his other hand, he slid the phone out of his pocket. Hopefully Levine was smart enough to leave it on…using the other backpack on the floor to keep the phone upright, he slowly texted a message to Levine's phone number out of sight. He thought they maybe had an hour, maybe more before the kid could get the car through the mountains into the main road. Not that he had an idea, having come in through helicopter.

Levine turned the corner, the sweat dropping off of his forehead. He could tell the truck hadn't been checked in a while, as he was barely keeping up with the other car. "It's no use," he said to Muldoon as the main tried to get an aim on the Hummer. "Car is built like a goddamn tank." They couldn't stop either, because they had the Carnotaur on their heels, and it was keeping up with them roaring every second. The road was slick and narrow, and so he couldn't hope to try to pass the car either for a better shot. The only thing he could think of was try to wait it out until they got out of the mountains where the road opened up then Muldoon might be able to take a shot without hurting the hostages.

He heard a strange buzzing noise and turned his head. Only after a second did he realize it was his cell phone going off. Carefully he removed it from his vest pocket, and tossed it to Muldoon. "Put it on speaker," he told the other man, after all his hands were sort of full right now. He took another turn, watching the rear lights of the other car through the rain. The phone was silent, and he realized with a look that it was a text message. Damn…and Muldoon was staring at it like he didn't know what the hell to do. "What does it say then?" He asked the other man, trying not to let his impatience be too clear or obvious. It wasn't exactly a moment where he could just relax enough to read it…

Muldoon set his gun aside and read it… "The Kid has the eggs, going to look in the other backpack now…" He looked back and fired once out the window to make sure that the Carnotaur would still be following them. He could still see it, didn't know how the hell they were going to resolve that, hopefully they would think of something before they got to a populated area or all hell would break loose probably. He looked down again as the phone buzzed, sort of surprised at the second response that he got through the phone. "There's a second part of the message, he says there's some sort of green lizard in the other backpack." Muldoon looked at the other man, not needing to say the word they were both thinking. If the kid had a live Compy in the backpack this could be very bad. It was bad enough losing the eggs, but two species of dinosaur loose elsewhere?

Muldoon sort of knew what Marty might try to do to distract the kid but he didn't know how that could work without the kid noticing. Give him a bigger distraction to worry about? That was a possibility he thought about as he picked up his SPAS-12 and leaned out the window. The Carnotaur was catching up so this was rather risky and foolhardy, but he thought he would try it regardless. Shutting one eye, he aimed at the back window, not high enough to hit the driver or the passengers, but certainly it was enough to cause a commotion. Squeezing the trigger, he could feel the hot breath of the dinosaur behind him as it closed in on what appeared to be easy prey. He wasted no time on getting his body back in the car. He grinned as he watched the back seat window shatter, the glass shards falling off one after another like rain.

Marty picked up the Compy gingerly as he took it out of the backpack. He didn't even dare to breathe, as he was afraid of waking it. He could hear the dark footfalls behind him, the dank air rushing in now that the entire back was shattered by that gunshot. They weren't yet in the narrow passes yet, this was still very much on the road leading out. Hadn't the helicopter pilot mentioned something about there being an additional landing area by the side of the road? Something about a mile to half a mile far from the village the thought but couldn't quite confirm in his head. Either way he knew he could not possibly allow his student to bring these animals out into the world at large. It wasn't something that could easily be contained, this sort of power…

Baxter wiped the sweat off of his brow with the back of his hand as he tried to hold his gun steady. He was trying to keep one eye on the road and another on the to make sure she didn't try any unwise moves, he did not really wish to shoot her, but if she moved suddenly he wouldn't be accountable for any sudden spasms of his trigger finger. It shouldn't really be that far down the mountain he figured to himself, and even with the others pursuing him, he thought it was possible that he could lose them. Once they got out of the mountain passes and into the main roads, the Hummer would easily be able to outpace the truck any day of the week. He knew it was only a matter of keeping pace.

Once they had left the others behind he figured that he would force Carter and Marty out, and drive to a populated area himself. Nothing more he could do really, but with the amount of money he would make, he could move to a foreign country, with no extradition rules. It was really too bad about not being able to finish school, but he was looking at being financially secure for the rest of his life, as long as he could get the eggs and the lizard in the hands of the right people. There were already a few places he had in mind, maybe Switzerland that seemed like a good place to start, although he personally preferred a better climate then that.

He could see movement in the backseat, was Marty waking up from from the drugs? He turned his head as he could see the man was moving around in the backseat. Baxter's first thought was that his former professor could've been hit by some of the glass after the gunshot had hit the back window and that could be it. It was a possibility, but his brow furrowed and he squinted as he saw the man holding the backpack. "Hold it there," He said turning his head slightly to the other side, to face Marty. "Drop that damn thing or…." He realized that if he did follow through on the threat, he most likely wouldn't be able to grab the steering wheel in time to prevent a crash. It was an empty threat and they both knew it. They looked at each other in the eye, and Baxter took a breath as he realized Marty wasn't holding the backpack with the eggs in it.

It was the other backpack, and he could see it was empty. "You sunnavabitch", Baxter cursed as he turned the gun to Marty. That was at least a million out the window if the man had indeed thrown it out of the car. He was angry, but didn't know yet if it warranted pulling the trigger. Once he did he felt like he would pass a point he couldn't turn back from. Was he willing to go there? He swallowed silently, as he stared at Marty, seeing only a blankly impassive stare at him. Not even judging him, just without emotion or even fear. "Damn you, you're not worth it…" Baxter said as he lowered the gun. Stealing was one thing, taking a man's life in a moment of heated anger was quite another.

"But maybe I can show you what happens if you try another stunt like that." He drew the hammer back, aimed at Marty's foot. Distracted he didn't see as Carter took the opportunity to swerve the car as she took the corner, which caused him to be caught off balance. Marty punched him quickly in the face, and he felt the cartilige of his nose crack slightly under the pressure. "Screw you your dead," He said as he raised the gun, aiming for Marty's chest. The man had brought this upon him, he really had. He was so focused on trying to maintain a steady aim that he didn't notice a chirping sound to his left. The Compy jumped onto his outsretched arm, and ran nimbly up until it was close to his face. Baxter blinked, and tried to shake his arm, to get it off of him.

Even as Baxter drew his hand back, the Compy leaped into the front passenger seat. Turning his attention, Baxter immediately tried to stomp the damn lizard. But it was no use; it was too fast. It leaped onto his knee again, as it had in the previous chase, and chirped again. It was almost certainly trying to nip him, and he'd be damned if he let that happen. Aiming the gun, he could see through the window that there was a clearing to the right. "Stop the damn car," he growled to the woman, trying to get control of the different variables at once. The other car was still following them as well, and he could see a dark shadow behind it. They were already half a mile, a mile from the village and it seemed it had been much further then that.

As the lizard lunged at him, Baxter blocked it with his arm, but it got a good grip on the fabric of his shirtsleeve. "Damn you…" He said his temper rising as he tried to knock it over the head with his weapon. Baxter was forced to divert his attention for once crucial moment, which proved to be long enough. As the Compy leaped onto his arm, he felt the car swerve suddenly to the side. Turning, he saw the driver's side door was open, the seat belt swinging in the breeze. What was that… Before he had an opportunity to process it, he felt the Lizard nipping his fingers and just stared at the sight of the blood. The rain seemed to fall super slow as the Hummer raced across the clearing, losing speed but not fast enough.

In the backseat, he could see Marty ducking for cover, but Baxter couldn't really see why until he looked back through the windshield. The trees looming really close in his field of vision, he couldn't stop the crash, nor could he at this moment in time. All he could do was ready himself for the impact as best as he could, closing his eyes as he got into position. Through the downpour of the rain, time seemed to slow down, and his perceptions were heightened. Particularly, he could most definitely hear that buzzing throb through the air, which he thought was just his imagining for one moment, but it wasn't. It was the sound of a chopper in the air, and it was close.


	28. Baxter

Shaun Baxter groaned as he shook his head and opened his eyes. First thing he saw was that damned lizard on the windshield; it's head at an impossible angle. The second crash had caused it to barrel straight into the glass this time, and it was dead. He picked it up in a daze, as he looked in the backseat. Through the window he could see the chopper coming down and he knew he needed to get the goods fast. In all likelihood, the eggs would be his ticket out of here and it was a good thing too. After all that had happened, he really didn't feel like driving down the mountain at night in the rain. Just not in his plans for right now.

He realized that his gun was nowhere to be seen, and there wasn't time to go looking for it. Unbuckling his seat belt, Baxter turned around in his seat and looked behind him. Dr. Guitierrez was splayed facedown on the seat; he looked unconscious for now. Besides him was the backpack that the Compy had escaped from, but Baxter paid it no mind. Instead he grabbed the one that had the eggs in it, and without checking he slung it over his shoulders. In his excitement, he opened the door, and stared at the chopper coming down. He could smell the money, practically taste it. This was going to be worth it, he wouldn't even have to finish graduate school at this rate… He felt the rush of the cool night air as the chopper descended.

In the truck, Levine and Muldoon stood absolutely still as the Chopper began to descend. Levine turned off the lights, and he could see in the rearview mirror the large form of the Carnotaur stopping to sniff the night air. Even this large dinosaur was cautious, at such an unfamiliar object entering its world. It lowered its head once, and then disappeared into the jungle. "He's not gone, only waiting until it passes," Levine observed and behind him Muldoon nodded. The men both knew exactly what sort of helicopter this must be. The one that the Biosyn woman had called for…Luckily they were in the shade of the trees and some distance from the clearing, the helicopter would never notice them.

"Where's the Doctor?" Muldoon said as he leaned in close to the window, wiping the fog off of the glass. It was apparent that she'd managed to leap out at the last second but he couldn't see her. Normally he took pride in his tracking abilities, but it was a dark night and it was raining, and frankly there was a lot of mud on the road. She could be anywhere in this and he couldn't see her. He thought it was possible that she was crawling in the mud to avoid detection by the helicopter and nodded. Smart move, which was what he would've done. Even though he knew the Helicopter crew couldn't see him, he lifted his shotgun, and aimed just in case something happened.

In the fog of the night, the helicopter descended, making its entrance in the muddy landing right next to the Hummer. There were two or three people in the chopper; it wasn't easy to tell exactly. One pilot and two others, and the other immediately got off and began to walk towards the crashed car. Baxter stepped out of the car at that moment, raising his arms to show he meant no harm. He surveyed the man staring at him, couldn't quite make out the face among the rain and the darkness. They were dressed in the same fatigues as James had been wearing, but there was something about them that was decidedly not exactly Military. "Biosyn?" Baxter asked to make sure and the other man nodded, still staring at him.

"I got something for you then," Baxter smiled as he took the dead Compy out from the seat and handed it to the man. The man cradled it in his arms and stared at it for the longest time. Then he walked back to the chopper and gave it to the other man. Baxter could see the specimen being put into what appeared to be a portable cooler, and then covered with a blanket. After this, the man turned around, and Baxter came forward again. "Do you have my money?" he asked as he started to walk towards the copter. He stopped, frowning as the man held out his hand signaling him to stop. He wondered what he could have possible done wrong. Still, he did not let that unduly perturb him.

Carter watched from the trees as Baxter stood his ground, and held out the backpack. She groaned as she leaned against the trees, hearing the sound of an owl hooting in the distance. She really needed to get to the cars to lie down or something, but she couldn't. Even going around might be risky but she knew she had to try it. The helicopter men hadn't noticed it, but the large dinosaur had gone into the trees as soon as the noise had started. So following the treeline around the Chopper was a very risky proposition at the moment. Every part of her felt like it was on fire, and she could barely stand. She'd managed to make it through to the tree line by crawling in the mud, grateful that it had been so close already. She was completely soaked and scraped and every single inch of her clothes was damned dirty. In short she was feeling like hell.

Still, Marty was somewhere inside the car, and she knew she couldn't leave a patient. Staggering, she made her way through the treeline and collapsed onto the churning mud. Since it was dark and she was already covered with the stuff, she was able to pass unnoticed as she crawled behind the car. She could see the two men talking from her crouched position, wondered why the kid was hesitating. Wasn't this the part he'd been waiting for, been willing to betray them all for? She frowned as the other man began to stall Baxter, sensing that something was wrong. The kid raised his backpack and the other man took it from him rather roughly. Words were exchanged but she couldn't hear over the patter of the rain and the fogginess of the windows. But she saw that the other man seemed satisfied with the contents of the bag, and nodded.

Carter fiddled with the car door, trying to open it in a way that wouldn't attract the attention of the men. Maybe it was better to do so once they left. After all, they didn't look as if they intended to stay for any length of time. She gazed downward through the window and with relief could see that Marty was still breathing. He was breathing very shallowly and his head was bleeding from where it had hit the door. But he was alive. Staring back up, she could see the man from the helicopter taking the bag back to the heilicopter and it was taken by his companion. The kid stepped forward again, as the two men walked back towards the chopper together. Carter quickly took the opportunity to get on the other side of the door, where she would be able to open it quicker. The owl hooted again, this time seeming much closer, even though it wouldn't normally be that late at night.

As the man got into the chopper, the kid attempted to climb on but his path was blocked. The kid attempted to argue, but was then silent. As Carter saw through the pouring rain and the foggy glass, the man reached into his waistband, and pulled out a gun. The kid stood absolutely still, but it seemed like he wasn't sure what the meaning of it was. He held his hands in the air and began to protest. Carter couldn't hear over the rain but she could imagine what he must be saying. Probably trying to make light of the situation, or bluff his way. Though by the stern look on the other man's face, she could guess what his orders were. To leave no witnesses probably, which was going to be easy when it was only one man.

The gunshot echoed loudly though the clearing, and Carter felt herself instinctively ducking into the mud. From her vantage, she could see the kid's body collapse onto the floor, as he groaned and writhed on the floor. There was a start as the blades of the helicopter started up again, and she could feel the wind rushing past beneath her. She was absolutely still as the chopper began to lift up, not wanting to alert to anyone that there were still survivors. She figured the men back at the car were following the same direction, staying absolutely silent until the coast was clear. The helicopter did not waste any time in lifting off of the ground, and soon was lost to sight through the clouds and the rain. Still, she counted off a full half-minute before moving, quickly opening the door to the car.

Baxter groaned as he lay on his back in the dirt. He touched his shirt slightly, feeling the stickiness of the mud and the blood from where the bullet had hit him. Not even a vital shot really, but he'd played it off as worse then it was so that the man would leave him alone. He remembered the face that shot him, it was the same one that James had said was his boss. Who knew that Rossiter himself would come out to personally pick up the goods? Well they were out of his hands now, and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. There was only one thing to do now, try to back up the Hummer and get the hell out of here. He had dropped his gun, but he thought it was somewhere in the car…

As he got up, he held one hand on his chest to stop the bleeding, but he could feel himself getting light-headed. He wondered vaguely where the other car was then he decided he didn't care at all. As Baxter got into the driver's seat, he noticed that the keys were not in the car. He immediately turned around and saw that the back seat was empty, and the door was swinging open. Baxter punched the horn in frustration, just letting the loud noise echo through the clearing. He saw his gun under the seat, and he stumbled and grabbed it. Oh yes they were going to give him back the key, he'd make sure of that. He climbed over the passenger seat, and he saw them, already staggering through the mud.

As Baxter stood staring at the two of them, he felt his chest heave. Everything had been for naught, everything. The woman was staring at him, fear in her eyes. She began to say something about getting him help for the wound, but he wasn't even hearing it right now. He could see the silhoulette of the other car through the fog, sensed that they might try something. So he pointed his gun at them, staring right at the men. The message was clear, if they tried anything he would shoot them, not to kill though, just enough to get the message across. "Get up," he said as he felt the rain wash over him, as he put his other hand to his side. The bullet had never exited, and he supposed it had cracked a few of his ribs at least, nothing major. Still, the bloodstain was slowly creeping through his shirt.

"Shaun," Marty said as he crawled up to a sitting position. "Shaun please it's over, just…" He stared up at his former student, his face just completely tired. He had certainly never dreamed that it would come to this, never in his life. "Just get in the car and walk away," Biosyn had gotten what it wanted, and look at their reward they had offered him. The kid had no reason to do anything further to them, now that all hope of his compensation was gone. He stopped talking, as he heard the hoot of the owl again. That was strange; it was coming off too strongly from what little he had studied back when he was still deciding which field to go into in graduate school.

Baxter heard the sound as well, and he swiveled around, sensing that there was something behind him. There was, and it glided out of the jungle like a silent ghost. The first thing he noticed was how thin it was, as if were almost on the brink of starvation, it was not fully developed, perhaps due to malnutrition. The animal was seven or eight feet tall, seeming to be in its full maturity, even if not having achieved its full height yet. It's body form was that of a therapod, and even in this dim gloom, he could make out that it was spotted black against the faded and muted yellow of its body. There were two crests above its eyes, and they were crossed with red and black stripes. As it stared at them, the animal emitted a soft hooting cry, just like an owl. It struck Baxter what that sound he'd been ignoring was.

He stayed absolutely still, not moving a muscle, as it didn't seem interested in him at the moment. Instead it craned it's head, looking through the open door of the hummer. If he took a shot at it he might agitate the animal and there was still another large dinosaur out there, which might be attracted to the sound. The Dilophosaur's head disappeared into the backseat, as if it was scouring for something, then when it came out, he could see what it was holding in it's jaw. The other backpack, a rip appearing in its side and he could see the glint of another egg in it. So that's why the first backpack had felt so light, there had only been one egg in there…. He sighed as he knew Marty had made the switch.

Baxter began to walk towards it, his gun aimed high. He'd already had enough things taken away from him today. The other specimens, his graduate school hopes, and now he wasn't about to let this last one be snatched from him as well. "Hey!" He yelled at the animal, hoping that it would be intimidated by the loud noise. After all, it didn't seem to be as strong or well built as the larger one, or even that smaller one with the large claw on it's feet. "Get the hell away or I'm going to fire!" The animal had not shown itself around the village, so he supposed it had learned to be wary of people, even after the exodus caused by the Biosyn agents. So he supposed that his tactic would work.

Levine and Muldoon watched from the car as the animal had come out of the jungle. Muldoon was frowning again, and holding his SPAS-12. "_Dilophosaurus Weatherilli_", and to Levine's surprise it was Muldoon who spoke this time. "Had it on Nublar, no idea that some managed to escape." But it didn't look like the species had been thriving, unlike the raptor. "You screwed up," he said to Levine, shaking his head. The other man had been so eager to identify the eggs that he'd only paid attention to the first and overlooked the second. Levine was still staring, and Muldoon sympathized. "Kid shouldn't be approaching it like that, there's something different about the ones InGen bred." Just then, the animal dropped the bag, and they watched as the kid bent down still brandishing the gun to retrieve it.

As they watched the kid bend down, Marty took hold of Carter's arm, and she did not even resist. "Down!" He whispered as he ducked against the mud, trying not to be visible in the rear lights of the Hummer. He'd heard enough stories from the deposition, about what had happened to Nedry, and what Grant had said about the animal before him. Carter didn't have to be persuaded, she seemed rather shocked by the sudden appearance of the large animal. They each tried not to breathe or give away any signal of their presence, as they watched Baxter's hand close around the backpack. The Dilophosaur stared at him curiously, and then snapped its head forward in a sudden jerking motion.

Baxter stood up, staring down at his shirt. The animal had spit on him, he realized, as he perused the sticky black substance. As he slung the backpack over his shoulder he ran a finger through it, and felt as if a sudden chill ran down his front. There was a hole in his shirt, and he realized then the spit must've eaten through it. He also felt an odd tingling sensation in his fingers, so this animal's spit had some sort of acidic properties…. He raised his gun, as the animal stepped forward and gave another hoot as it bared its teeth. Baxter pulled the trigger back as he prepared to aim. He had a good read on it's head, and if it snapped its head back he would shoot it this time. Slowly, he began edging to the side, trying to present Marty and Carter as more viable targets for attack then he was. However, the animal paid them no attention, its head following him as he moved.

He fired one shot, and the Dinosaur didn't react at all, it had gone cleanly past its head. He thought maybe if he could just get in the Hummer he could be safe. After all…but there were still too many doors open though. The animal might not be able to get in all the way but it could still spit through an open door. Well, Baxter figured he would deal with it when the time came. He looked back at the animal just to make sure it was still there, swiveling his gun as well. Suddenly he felt a sticky mass of the hot, burning spittle impact against his cheek. He looked down as he tried to rub it off, but it was no use. "Damn, you piece of shit…" he muttered as he staggered, just trying to make it into the car.

It really did burn, and he could hear the heavy footsteps of the animal following him as he made his way towards the driver's seat. Baxter remembered that the car keys were still with Marty and he grit his teeth. Damn, damn. At least he could try to make a stand in there, then the animal would get bored... His hand ran along the line of the car, as he opened the driver's door with his foot. The pain in his cheeks was still very obvious… also the acidic poison had seeped into his gunshot wound, and he was barely able to think. Lowering his arm, he felt the backpack slip off of his shoulder, and onto the floor and he didn't care.

As he started to get in, he felt another sensation, and then he couldn't see. He realized then what had happened as soon as he rubbed his hands over. The dinosaur had spit on him again…and he was now blinded. He fired once or twice in panic, as he tried to get inside the car while rubbing frantically at his eyes trying to get this shit off of him. It wasn't coming off, and the pouring rain didn't help either, since he already had mud on his hands and it was already caking the poison in, preventing it from being washed off easily. There was another hoot and he heard the sound of the footfalls coming closer. It was behind him now he could tell that, and he spun around, his gun raised.

He felt his hand being pushed to the side by the animal's crest, and his gun slipped from his nerveless fingers. Baxter clawed at the outlines of the car; still trying to get in, somehow shut the door behind him. He had a bottle of water inside, if he managed to shut the doors he could wash it out. Feeling the edge of the driver's entrance he began to chuckle. "You lose buddy," and began to back up, but only for a short while. Because then there was another sensation, and he felt a sudden warmth running down his legs, dripping onto his feet. He felt even more lightheaded then before all of a sudden, and his legs buckled as he fell backward on to the driver's seat. A touch affirmed that it was his intestines he held in his hands.

The animal had ripped him open, and his organs had spilled out. He felt another sensation in his leg, and realized the animal was biting him. Dragging him out of the car. Not even aware of what he was doing anymore, Baxter tried to hold on to the steering wheel, but it turned in his hand, and the mud and the sticky acid caused him to lose his grip. He grunted as he fell on his back in the rain, as the animal let him go. For some reason he felt incredibly sleepy, even though his terror was extreme. Then he felt a new pain, and it felt like his skull was going to split. Because the Dilophosaur had his head in his jaws, and he couldn't even think, because there was too much pain, in too many places. He hoped it would be quick, now that he knew his schedule was pretty much cleared for life.

That was his one final wish; that it would soon be over.


	29. The Final Problem

The Dilophosaur raised it's head, the ragged flesh now visible in the lights of the Hummer. It threw its head back as it swallowed the meat whole and hooted again. It backed up, moving to the side to get a better spot at its prey, and ducked down again. Levine stared from the car, the two men still utterly speechless. "I'm done with this shit," Levine said, shaking his head as he turned on the car. The animal looked up at the source of the noise, taking a step forward. He turned the lights on in the car and hit the gas. Beside him, Muldoon was beginning to load shells into his shotgun, a grim look on his face.

The animal stepped away from the body, and began to walk behind the car. Levine drove the car forward slowly, turning on the high beams so that he could see where Carter and Marty were still crawling through the mud. In the worst-case scenario, he knew the animal would attempt to attack them as well. Of course though, he couldn't imagine why it would attack them if it had just fed. The primary aim of the dinosaur would be to protect it's kill and the egg, and would likely ignore them if they left it alone. Still, there was something bothering him. There had been no evidence of such spitting behavior as that in the fossil record…and the way the kid had reacted to it…

Levine pulled up next to Carter and Marty and jumped out of the car. Muldoon got out beside him as well. Muldoon had the gun right now and was covering the animal from behind the door. Levine ran around the back of the car and knelt down next to the other two people. Marty looked like he was going to faint probably due to the shock and trauma. Carter just looked tired and had bruises all over her body. Levine grabbed Marty and tried to help him up. The mud was slippery and he struggled to find his footing. Grunting, he stood up with Carter helping him. They kept an eye on the animal approaching them. Levine didn't get it, with it as starved as it was appearing, it should be moving back towards its kill not attempting to approach them.

The Dilophosaur hooted again as it approached the humans, the blood still trickling off of its jaws and mixing in with the mud. However one thing became apparent, as all of them ducked low so they wouldn't be hit by the spit. The animal wasn't paying attention to them, and Muldoon realized it was staring behind them. "Shit," he muttered under his breath as he realized this. To the Dilophosaur, the humans were merely intruders, but did not distrupt its sense of territory. He realized then that he'd been so preoccupied with the animal that he completely forgot about the other one that had disappeared into the trees. He heard a roar behind them as they all craned their necks to look.

The Carnotaur was beside the Hummer now, it's head ducked on the driver's side door. It wasn't visible, but it was apparent that it was consuming the remains of the graduate student. The Dilophosaur hooted again, taking a step forward to confront this new challenger. However the Carnotaur merely stared at it, as it had not seen an animal like it before. As the Dilophosaur came closer, the Carnotaur gave a warning growl, and lumbered around the car. As it approached, they could see the Dilophosaur starting to back up. It hadn't expected something as big as the Carnotaur to intrude upon it's territory and it saw immediately that it was at a disadvantage. Hooting again, the Dilophosaur tried to move to the side, but the Carnotaur blocked it's path.

Levine pulled Marty up as he leaned on the side of the truck for support. He realized that the Dilophosaur must've only ever seen the raptor as a similar sized animal of a different species. With no experience in Carnotaurs, he guessed it was deciding that it was not worth taking the risk. It turned away, and the Carnotaur roared in triumph, following it as it ran behind the hummer. But once it was out of sight behind the car it did not pursue, and Levine guessed that it didn't particularly want to steal another animal's kill and risk a fight either. Not with fresh, already injured meat right next to it. They had to be going now, or they were next on the buffet, this was hunting and territorial behavior he remembered.

Muldoon saw the Carnotaur turn it's head and he frowned as it approached them. They needed a distraction but what… As he turned to look, Marty leaned forward and placed something in his hands. The keys to the Hummer. Why had he not thought of that before? Despite its damage, the car should still be operational. He nodded to Levine. "Get him in the bed of the truck, and just go." He knew that if they stayed they would be in danger of attack by the animal. However if they left, Marty might be able to get medical attention. Further they could get enough of a head start on the animal so that they could reach a main road. He could distract the animal, and he put the keys in his shirt pocket.

"Just get out of here," he said as he turned and stood up as he could hear Carter and Levine start to protest. "Go now, before it turns its attention to you." He said as he grabbed the door and pushed it open as he turned to the side and stared right at the animal. The Carnotaurus stared right back at him, and took a step forward. Marty knew that the truck was nowhere as secure as the Hummer, the rest would have no chance if the animal besieged the car. He took a breath, and tightened his grip on his shotgun. "Are you ready to live dangerously?" he asked himself in a whisper, as he tensed his muscles, prepared to run. The animal lowered its head and Muldoon took his chance.

He broke off into a run, heading for the edge of the clearing. He had gone done this road many times, he knew it like the back of his hand. However that had all been by car, in reality he did not know what lay beyond the trees. Running past the Hummer, he noticed that the Dilophosaur was attempting to drag the kid away. However it was not having that much success, and he suspected it's malnutrition might have played a role in that. There was no time to interefere, and he did not stop to see if it was following him, just sped on by. He reached the edge of the clearing and then stopped barely. He'd thought there was going to be a gentle incline at the edge, but instead there was a steep cliff where he had thought there to be none.

It was a steep drop, and he could tell there was no other way down. There was a outcropping a few hundred feet down, but no way in hell would he survive a fall that far. He could see the valley below, and somewhere in the distance the main road. The mountain road was winding down the path, and he could see that it went directly under where the cliff was at one point. Dense jungle covered the landscape in all directions, but thinned noticeably where the mountain road met the main road, somewhere at the very base. It was nearing dusk, and the sun was beginning to go down under the horizon. The rain pouring down on his figure, Robert Muldoon swiveled around his shotgun at the ready.

The animal was coming at him hard it's head lowered, and bellowing as it lumbered towards him. Muldoon was painfully aware that it was possibly echoing down there, although he didn't think it would reach the main road. "Come on you son of a bitch," he muttered as he pressed his head to the stock of his gun and aimed down the sights. He fired once, and he could see the animal slowing as the shot hit home. But it was still going, and he aimed again for his next shot. But he could see that if he missed this next shot he wouldn't have time for another. And the animal had barely even acknowledged the first. That was what he hated about these animals. Even a direct hit to head didn't stop them. This animal was all bulk and couldn't even tell when it was hit.

He grit his teeth and dug in as he prepared to fire. His finger was almost on the trigger when the dinosaur stopped about ten feet from him. The reason for that became clear when he heard it. The truck was starting up again, and that meant Levine must be trying to get the engine going. However it was not fast enough, not nearly fast enough he knew. The animal started to turn, it's curiosity piqued by the new event. Muldoon didn't know what was going to happen and he stood up just as he saw the animal turning. "Damn you, no!" He yelled but it didn't listen. His eyes immediately went to the Hummer, feeling the keys in his front shirt pocket. The Dilophosaur was in front still, but he didn't really care about it at the moment. Only that if he didn't do something soon, the truck would get tipped over pretty damn quick.

He made a dash for the door of the Hummer, which thankfully Baxter had left open. Stopping when he saw the Dilophosaur raise it's head, he carefully aimed the gun and lowered the brim of his hat so that the spit wouldn't blind him. Noticing how thin it seemed, he slowly crouched down. Holding the bag in his hand he slowly whispered to it. "The egg or your next meal," providing it with a choice meant to confuse it to see which one it gave priority to. Right now he could practically see the wheels turning. He didn't know what the population was, but he guessed it had to be low, but it didn't seem as if it had much luck in hunting lately either…He was gambling that it would take the chance of taking the kid's corpse so that it might have a chance of mating again someday.

The Dilophosaur hooted again, and it turned it's head biting down on Baxter's leg. Muldoon stepped to the side, smirking slightly as he saw it had made a choice. He had been prepared to shoot it, but this way was probably better. He waited until Baxter's body was clear of the door before rushing in quick and shutting the door. Taking the key from his pocket he quickly placed the shotgun and the backpack on the passenger seat, starting the car, he could see the Carnotaur had reached the truck. It was backing up, and he could tell it was going to attempt to charge it to tip it over. Anxious, he stepped on the reverse, watching the Dilophosaur fade into the trees, as it did so. He could think of only one way to piss it off, and it was going to be risky, but if he had any hope of helping out the others he had to chance it. Otherwise they were as good as dead.

As he backed out, he realized that the passenger and the side door on the opposite side from him were swinging open. However he couldn't worry about that right now, as he started backing up and turning the steering wheel. The Carnotaur was almost at the truck, which was not moving fast enough. He knew that the truck would not be able to outmaneuver the large animal on the winding mountain passes, this had to end now. Now the animal was directly behind him and he looked back behind him as he floored it. Just enough so that the animal would hear the noise. The Carnotaur turned around as the Hummer approached it. Roaring, it lumbered towards him, determined to defeat this new threat.

Muldoon quickly turned the wheel again and this time stepped on the accelerator as hard as he could. Turning to the left and the right, he gradually reduced his speed. There was the plan, to intrude upon the territory, and then behave like a wounded animal. In his rearview mirror, he could see the Carnotaur taking the bait and following him. Then he swerved, stopping his car near the edge of the cliff. He could see the lights come on in the truck, the car finally starting again. But he couldn't afford to pay it any attention, because there was several tons of enraged dinosaur charging at him. It wasn't stupid and slowed down as it thought that it had him cornered.

Muldoon put the car into gear again as he grit his teeth. This was going to be tricky now. He backed up a bit, making it seem like he was retreating. Then as the Carnotaur was about to reach him, he sped up and passed the Carnotaur leaving the animal confused. He saw Levine looking relieved, waving to him to come and follow them down the mountain. He shook his head as he turned the car around, seeing the look of confusion on their faces. He couldn't just leave knowing that the Carnotaur was out here. Everybody in the village would likely be coming back the next day after discovering that no one from the military had actually come. If so, then the Carnotaur presented a clear and present threat to the safety of these people. The other animals, the Dilo, the Raptor, even the Compies were smart enough to avoid people, had learned that a long time ago. But not this one.

The people coming back would find themselves right in the middle of the territory of a large dominant predator. One that would have absolutely no qualms about entering right in the middle of a human village. Given the ability to camouflage itself, there would be plenty of casualties as the humans would not know what was preying on them. Even worse, as people tried to escape there was always the possibility that it would follow them down to the main road, and from there…He didn't want to think about it. The Costa Rican government would probably overreact and send teams to hunt down and kill the animals, even though in this dense jungle it really was a futile effort. What about if he just ended it all here? That actually didn't seem like a bad idea.

The Carnotaur was at the very edge of the cliff now wondering where its prey had gone. It was roaring defiantly out over the edge, and Muldoon was quite certain that anyone on the main road would be able to hear it. He turned the steering wheel, so that the car was directly facing the dinosaur. His mouth stretched into a wry grin, as he pressed on hand down on his hat as he put the Hummer into gear again. His hands tightened over the steering wheel as he revved up the accelerator. Slamming his foot on the gas, he sped at full speed towards the Carnotaur. The Carnotaur turned to face him, then roared one final defiant time. However, Muldoon was moving too fast, and it couldn't get out of the way. Time seemed to slow for Muldoon, as the large animal got closer and closer in his windshield…

Levine couldn't believe it as Muldoon turned away from him. Was the man insane? This was the perfect opportunity to get away! He opened the door, just as Muldoon started the car. He couldn't believe it as he watched, the Carnotaur roaring in the fading light, and the Hummer bearing down on it. Two beasts, one flesh and the other metal, coming at each other. But the one would not relent and as he looked on, the Carnotaur could not evade, nor did it make any move too, even as the Hummer rammed it head on. The dinosaur attempted to evade, but the weight of the car was too much, pressing it forward. The animal stepped back trying to gain traction, only there was nothing to step forward to. The Hummer did not relent either, and he saw with his horror both go over the edge, the Roaring of the Carnotaur sounding horrible as it fell.

There was a crash, and then silence. Levine slammed the door shut, gesturing for Carter to just stay there. Running as fast as he could, he had to be sure, he just had to. He heard a crack like something heavy falling off, and he guessed that the Hummer had struck a rock, but was still falling. Reaching the edge, he peered over. The Carnotaur was splayed out on the rocky outcrop a few hundred feet from the edge. It wasn't moving, and it's neck was twisted at an odd angle. Dead, the last living Carnotaur was dead, he thought to himself. Further down on the road he could see the scattered ruins of the Hummer all over the road below. He wondered how he was going to explain that to the rental agency. He was about to turn away when he heard a grunt. Looking down he noticed he was stepping on Muldoon's hat, it must've swept away in the breeze. Kneeling down, he picked it up and held it for the longest time.

He heard another grunt, and then noticed a root at the edge start to slip. Turning his head idly, he looked down again, this time closer to the edge. The root extended down further along the cliff, and he could see that there were many crags in the side of the cliff face. He could see the man hanging on for dear life, the backpack slung over his shoulder. "Hey there," Muldoon said smiling at him as the root continued to slip. "I could really use a hand here." Levine was so surprised, that he almost fell over himself. But he placed the hat to the side, and kneeling down, grasped the root with both hands so that Muldoon could climb up. As the man pulled himself over the cliff face, Muldoon took the hat and placed it back on his head as they walked towards the car together.

"I don't know about you," Muldoon quipped, "But I need a drink."


	30. Homecoming

"His condition is stable," Dr. Roberta Carter announced to the men in the waiting room. She was extremely tired, having to assist on the surgery of Marty's leg for the past four hours. She had thought they could relax once they got to a city with a suitable hospital. It was a coastal village, but more populated then Ismaloya had been and it did actually have a clinic with working electricity and proper facilities. She reflected that actually Bahia Anasco wasn't too far from here. They had been short a doctor since their last one had gone off to a neighboring village. "With any luck his recovery time will be as little as a week, although he should be lucid in a few hours," she said staring at them and wishing she could just take off these scrubs now.

She did take off her surgical gloves though, thinking how much she needed a rest. Or some coffee at least, and a proper shower. All her clothes had been in her trunk in her tent in the village, which had gotten runover when the jackass had held them at gunpoint. Still, she saw Muldoon and Levine looking equally tired, almost on the point of falling asleep. She thought they probably had a lot to talk about, now they were in the safety of civilization. Well at least, civilization to her was within reach of fast food restauruants, and she was a little surprised they had a McDonalds here, although in retrospect she shouldn't be.

Muldoon was staring blankly at the other wall when the doctor came back in. It didn't feel right to go through all that, and come back to civilization. Sure he'd lived the past few years up there but until now he had gotten only tantalizing hints of what lurked in the jungles. About half of these had been related to the animal that was in the barn, which he now knew had probably been stolen from the other island that Levine had mentioned to him. The dinosaurs had been well hidden until the moment when the large dinosaur had come out, and then that's when everything had gone to hell. He was still angry about the fact that his own house had been invaded by one of the raptors, his inner Sanctum…

He pointed to the television set, where an announcer was saying something in Spanish. "They just said right now that the Costa Rican authorities just heard about the evacuation just now," not that surprising given that it had barely been a day. They had pulled into the main road just after midnight, and into this larger village at around four o' clock. "They're going to investigate, or so they claim," he said rolling his eyes. He knew the implications of what he was saying. The bodies of the mercenaries had probably been dragged off into the woods by now. The raptor would take care of that long before the chopper got there. However the barn was another story. "What do you think they're going to do once they look inside the barn?" With that Carnotaur scent all over it no other animal would go near it.

"The rain will wipe out all of the tracks except for the ones in the

barn." He stared at her. I give you about five minutes until- He looked up and saw that the channel and switched to an urgent news broadcast. The news was now that the Government was preventing people from going up the mountain while they launched an investigation. "Ten to one they send teams throughout the mountain looking for what caused that." He shook his head, knowing the futile efforts that hat resulted when the aberrant forms had started showing a few years ago. He got up, stretching his legs as he snatched the Mcdonald's bag from the seat now that he was finished with it and threw it in the trash.

"Do you think we should ditch the car?" Levine asked, his face worried. If anyone had seen them come in they were sufficiently dirty enough to raise suspicion. Would the Costa Ricans start asking if anyone had come down the mountain or not? "I think regardless, we should get out of the country as soon as possible, get to an American Embassy at least." Levine still had his passport, and could call the board of directors at the company, explain his situation without going into detail and ask for a pickup. He wasn't sure about the others though, he thought that Muldoon's passport was definetly still up there, and probably the Doctor's as well as Marty's. Therefore the best thing for him to do was drop them off at the consulate. "Muldoon, they'll notice that your car never left, and the wreck as well…" He trailed off as he thought of the most obvious thing that the government would notice. He stood up as well, wondering why they were still there.

"Well my passports back up there, so yeah, I could use a lift to the Embassy." He stared at the Doctor, and she nodded. "Okay so she wants to come with us too, and Marty as well." That was good for now, the sooner the better, because when the government found that body of the Carnotaur the residents would never be allowed back into Ismaloya. "You got your wallet Levine?" He asked sarcastically, "I would go on the safe side and hire a cab to a larger village or town. They were close enough to civilization proper that he had seen a local taxi in front of the clinic. "A pity about the animals too, it seemed they were sort of thriving." He shook his head, knowing that their ecosystem would take a sore blow from the loss of the eggs.

Carter stood up, looking at each of them in turn. "You go ahead actually, I think that too many questions will be asked if Marty shows up to the American Counsel with a shredded leg." It was more true then she cared to admit, although she knew the risk she was running if the government found any of her documents in the remains of her tent. "If Marty and I can get as far as San Juan, that'll be enough for the present. He should be able to sit down when he wakes up, though I don't know." She turned around as she was prepared to go to the room again. "Well if you two are leaving now, I guess I should say thanks-but I really have to go check on my patient now, make sure he's stable." She turned around and nodded at the two men, as she walked back through the door and closed it behind her.

As they watched the doctor leave, Muldoon and Levine stared at each other. "I guess it's time for us to be going as well," He picked up his hat and walked towards the exit, out into the parking lot with Levine. "What are you going to tell them at the Embassy?" He said out of curiousity, not that it really mattered. The dream was going to die again he knew, the government would send more teams throughout the jungle after seeing the body. He opened the door of the Truck, and got in, taking the backpack out and came out again. "You have enough money to call for that Taxi right?" He said to Levine, who looked surprised, and nodded as he took his wallet out.

Some hours later, Levine sighed as he approached the gate of the American Embassy. Muldoon had opted to stay behind, explaining he had some 'unfinished business' to take care of in the city. Levine hadn't challenged him at all, nor did he particularly care. He leaned against the gate as he felt a slight tinge and realized it was his cell phone. Up on that mountain he had put it on silent before getting out of the car and hadn't thought to change it. Looking down, he frowned slightly as he saw the message was from Malcolm. Why would he be calling he thought for a brief second. Then he realized that he'd sent the message to Malcolm as well just before getting on the plan to Costa Rica in the first place.

The message was asking about the footprint, more specifically how he found it. Levine frowned, wondering whether it was safe to ask by phone but then decided it would be better to ask him in person probably. Yes, that would be best. He didn't know how he felt about it, that only the Compy's would probably last further then a couple of years from now. He was still angry that the eggs had managed to reach the mainland, and wondered what would become of that. He rang on the doorbell, and saw the armed guard coming and he flashed his passport. "I'm an American citizen," he said swallowing. As the guard opened the door he walked through, and into the main lobby, as the man closed the gate he turned to look behind him, relieved he was finally on American soil again.

As he entered the lobby he frowned, his cell phone still in his hand he stared out at the man approaching him. He recognized him of course, the man who had shot the kid after taking the eggs. But he was in a suit now, and smiling with his arms wide open. Levine closed his cell phone, and crossed his arms, sighing as he realized his move to go to the embassy had been way too predictable. "Hello Dr. Levine, we've been expecting you," Rossiter said as he propped a seat ready for him. "I've been having the most fascinating talk with the Costa Rican counsel, he's here as well." He motioned that Levine should have a seat. He didn't see any other way around it… and sighed as he sat down.

"I say we do need to have a little talk," Rossiter said as he smiled.

That charming smile.

Marty Gutierrez opened his eyes and took several breaths. He didn't remember anything after the Carnotaur had almost knocked over the truck. He thought he had fainted from the shock, and been out while they went down. But he could see lights above his head, and a concrete wall. The sounds of other people talking, and through the open window, the hustle and bustle of a busy town. He realized with a sigh that he was out of danger, and he tried to get up, but realized that he felt too weak to do so. The doctor was above him, and he realized it was Dr. Carter, dressed in medical scrubs. He smiled despite himself as he realized he wasn't under the influence of morphine any more.

He tried to get up but she held his hand, shaking her head silently. "You're still too weak to walk," she admonished him, although she did take out some of the IV's that were still in his body. He managed to prop himself on his elbows though, and looked around. He could see some people in the waiting room looking bored, and took a breath. "I give it a day or two before you can walk at the very earliest time," she reassured him, smiling. She rolled the IV cart over to the side, and pulled the sheets back. "Your friend already left, said he'll speak with you later back at the states. Said something about a pressing appointment." She rolled the bed to the side to make room for another more critical patient, but still faced him.

Marty sighed taking a few deep breaths just drinking in the outside sounds. "Listen Dr-"He shook his head it seemed too formal after what had just happened. "Carter-I mean…Roberta." He settled on after a while. "I know it was a bit stiff back there in the village-Ismaloya but I just want to say…" He was really grateful that she didn't hold a grudge, and for her professionalism, but he didn't mention that. It would ruin the mood it seemed. "I'm sorry, I panicked. I didn't think I was going to but then something just happened and…" He decided it was better to stop talking when she smiled, and he felt a strange sensation. She took his hand, and he realized it was warm, and he looked up.

"Way I see it, I still owe you a drink," Carter said with a chuckle "And call me Bobbi, all my friends do."

Robert Muldoon slammed the door of the taxi and paid the driver fifty bucks. The man took it thanking him in Spanish, but Muldoon didn't care. He turned and walked down the busy street, his backpack in hand. San Juan, the one place the government would never think to find him. He reached into his pockets and pulled out some keys. The house in Ismaloya had been really nice, a way to get away from it all. However, he knew sacrifices had to be made, and as he figured, the televisions were still saying that the village was being cordoned off for safety reasons. His theory about a 'landslide' had proven true, but he wondered… if they would bother to take the body or not.

He crossed the street and looked up at the parking garage. Long term parking, you paid a flat rate per month-or year. Top of the line security, they promised you a car stored for as long as you wanted, pay the rate when you returned the key. Those were the keys Muldoon was twirling now. He entered the building, and placed the keys on the desk. The man stared at him and looked down, acting surprised. After a second, he took the keys and told Muldoon to come with him. They took an elevator up to the second floor of the garage, and was led to a small room with a key. Muldoon watched the security door roll up as he smiled. He thanked the man, knowing that the charges would merely go into his account.

It was the Jurassic Park tour jeep, the real one. So much better then the replica he'd commissioned for his home back in the village. But he couldn't let this one go to waste. He cringed, as he knew the government would probably go ballistic once they recognized the 'Jurassic Park' insignia on the side of the crashed jeep. However with this, he would be able to get where he needed to. He didn't think that he'd be able to get past the borders of the country if the Government was looking for him, but he knew he couldn't stay here. He did know people who knew people who could help him out….

Muldoon put the backpack on the seat, and because it wasn't zipped up, the top slumped over to reveal the egg. He had so many places to go, things to do. First of all, he had to get back to the states, figure out where to go from there. He stared at the egg, and smiled. Putting the car into gear he made his way out of the parking structure. He would go back to the States soon enough, within the next few days. Should be enough to give the Costa Ricans the slip, he thought as he got on the freeway. Next to him the egg rocked slowly, tentatively as if stirring from a long awakening. The man in the village had approached pet ownership in the wrong way, that was why he died. Muldoon wouldn't make such obvious mistakes, he thought to himself, opening the window so he could feel the cool air.

The egg continued to rock, and Muldoon turned on the radio because he was bored. He was almost at the private airfield now it wouldn't be long. Over the radio the announcer was speaking, but he wasn't paying attention. Classic rock, and he just sang along mindlessly. Thinking of what he was going to do about the egg, how to contain it properly. He didn't even know what the hell it was anyway, not entirely sure which egg the Biosyn agents had gotten. Either way, it was going to be interesting, very interesting, he thought to himself as he put the car in park, having reached the airfield. The egg would slip, he thought if he just left it unattended. So he had the perfect idea as he approached the plane, nodding to the men without any words needing to be exchanged.

Sweeping the hat off of his head, he placed the egg gently in the brim as he held it between his hands, watching it rock. Sitting down in the seat of the plane he stared out the window, wondering if this was going to be the last time he ever saw Costa Rica. The egg wobbling in his hand, and the song from the radio still fresh in his head, as the pilot made final checks to take off. Five, seven hours then they would be in Mexico for a stopover, probably less then that. He nodded, at the man and thanked him as he prepared to rest for the remainder of the flight. Gripping his hat tightly, he felt like he would never let go. Just before he fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion, his eyes remained on the egg. The last few words of the song blurred in his mind as he slurred.

"I read the news today…. oh boy…." Then he was out of it.

**The End** (?)

Okay thanks for reading this story! I will be releasing two epilogues with it soon. One will be an 'official' epilogue, and the other one will be a 'hypothetical' epilogue that could happen in the context of the story. It is up to the reader to decide which one of these epilogues they think serves best.


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